Partners in Crime
by Lydia Hunter
Summary: A romance novel from the original B:TAS. Bruce and Selina try to form a relationship without the masks
1. 1-4

1-4 ****

PARTNERS IN CRIME

Author's Note: _This story is based on Batman: The Animated Series... or at least the first 65 episodes. I like bits and pieces of all the series that followed, but it's difficult to believe it's all the same universe (alternate earths being DC tradition after all!) regardless of the official story. It was written in 1994, heavily under the influence of the film Mask of the Phantasm. I've also borrowed bits and pieces from the comics, especially "Year One" and some of the Earth-2 traditions, and the B:TAS novelisation "Dual to the Death." A chance encounter between Catwoman and Batgirl in that book forms the basis of their friendship._

Sorry, this is just a love story; if you want action look to the alluded to companion pieces, BABES IN THE WOODS and DOUBLE VISION.

CHAPTER ONE

APRIL, 1994

Bruce Wayne was miserable.

That was certainly nothing unusual; he had been in a near constant state of misery for most of his life, ever since his parents were murdered when he was a small child. The few brief moments of real happiness he had had were shining highs that made the following lows even darker.

Of course, most people would have found that incomprehensible. Aside from a very few close friends, anyone in Gotham City would have assumed here was one man who had it all. Nicknamed the "Boy Billionaire" years ago — although he hadn't actually turned his inherited millions into billions until he was almost thirty — he ran several of the most successful companies in the country, attended all the big events in the social whirl, dated the most beautiful debutantes, and lived in a spectacular mansion on the family estate, complete with the world's most perfect butler to run it. He was ruggedly handsome, tall, extremely well-muscled, with black hair and brown eyes so dark they also appeared black most of the time, and a very distinctive square jaw. He had an adopted son he adored. And the Wayne Foundation, a huge charity organization that did no end of good for the city, earned him the reputation as Gotham's leading philanthropist. How could anyone with all that be unhappy? 

He also had a reputation as a playboy and a womanizer. Anyone who had ever gone up against the CEO of Wayne Enterprises in a business deal would insist this was no jaded playboy, but Bruce himself would be the first to admit to the latter. Women to him fell into a few select categories, aside from friends and colleagues, who were accorded the same respect he would give a man in the same situation. There were the husband hunters, vacuous society women who used him as he used them, to the pleasure of both sides and the advantage of neither; and the heartbreakers, ladies with some real quality, who appealed to him as a person. Unfortunately, he had the tendency to talk himself into believing he loved them if they spent a couple of weeks together. Luckily he also had his comforters, a couple of women he genuinely cared for, good friends and lovers, although not what he needed on a permanent basis. But when he was suffering, their affection made him feel better about himself. 

Twice in his life he had truly fallen in love, but both those relationships had proved disastrous. One woman had taken his proposal as a slap in the face and ran off in a panic, telling him they couldn't even be friends any more.

If that wasn't painful enough, his first love chose that time to re-enter his life, bringing with her the same passion they had shared ten years ago, the same irrational hope that the two of them could put their demons behind them and live happily ever after — and the same anguish when she left again.

Now he was trying to put it all behind him once again, and on the surface he'd succeeded. With his business associates, his society friends and the women he dated, he seemed just the same as always. Even to his three most intimate friends, who knew the truth of what had happened, he seemed no moodier than his usual self. And at night, when he put on the cape and cowl and roamed the streets as Gotham City's famed vigilante crimefighter, neither the cops nor the criminals noticed anything different about Batman.

But sometimes it got to him, and the mask slipped a bit when he was alone, so he had to get away and brood. To isolate himself with his pain. That was what drove him out of the office on a particularly cold day in early April, to this bench in a nearly deserted park.

At least, he _thought_ it was deserted. He didn't know she was anywhere around until she spoke, and even then he didn't turn around. Only one woman had a voice like that — cool and husky, halfway between a whisper and a rasp — and for the first time since he'd known her he didn't want to see her.

"Hello, stranger. Long time no see."

"Hello, Selina."

Selina Kyle. Catwoman. His _second_ love.

"Want some company?" She took his silence for a yes and sat beside him on the bench. "I didn't know you made a habit of afternoons in the park."

"I don't."

Selina looked at him strangely, surprised at the brusque answer. "I do, sometimes," she said, just to make conversation. "Especially this one, since it's so close to the zoo. I have to walk off the anger when I see those animals penned up when they ought to be running free. Now that my mountain lion preserve is a reality, I've started campaigning for the zoo to release the big cats there. Unfortunately, it's run by some particularly stupid humans, and they look at me like _I_ ought to be locked up. "I'd like to lock _them _up and see how _they_ like it!" she snorted. 

Bruce said nothing, but a half smile formed itself involuntarily. _His_ world might have turned upside down, but some things would never change. It was comforting, somehow. He turned to look at her for the first time, bracing himself, waiting for the flood of emotions that overtook him every time he saw her.

Only...nothing happened.

Bruce was stunned. He studied her carefully, without appearing to do so, trying to figure out what was different.

She looked the same, just as stunningly beautiful as always. Her blonde hair still looked like impossibly soft spun gold, the green eyes glaring at the distant shape of the Gotham Zoo still glittered like emeralds, and, all things considered, he stood by his opinion that the mouth pursed in disapproval was the single most perfect pair of lips in the history of the world.

The only difference was that for the first time ever it failed to affect him in the slightest. He felt numb.

_Maybe,_ he thought, _maybe I never was in love with her. Maybe it was never anything but infatuation, friendship mixed with simple physical attraction. Maybe —_

Selina was looking at him expectantly, and he realised she had asked him a question.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "I'm afraid I wasn't listening to a word you said."

"Bruce, are you all right? You're not yourself today."

He shook his head. "To tell you the truth, uh, I haven't really been myself in months. And this isn't one of my better days."

"What's wrong?" she asked, with the concern of an old friend, nothing more.

To his great surprise, Bruce found himself telling her as much of the story as he could.

"My...my fiancee got mixed up in some very bad business. Something to do with the deaths of those gangsters a few months back. You know, the murders Batman was blamed for at first. Anyway, she left. I don't...I'm not even entirely sure if she's alive or dead, now."

Selina looked stunned. It was so unexpected she didn't really know what to say, so she murmured stupidly, "I didn't realise you were engaged."

"It was years ago. We met again Christmas, and, um, decided to see if we could make it work this time. We couldn't." He tried to shrug it off, but the pain in his voice defeated the casual gesture.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. Really. If there's anything I can do...." She touched his hand with gloved fingertips, and he pulled away.

"No. There's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do. I just have to get through it by myself, that's all."

Selina nodded sadly. "I know. I seem to have been dumped myself — and ironically I think it may have something to do with the same business."

Bruce gave her a sharp look. "What do you mean?" he asked, although he had a bad feeling he knew.

"Oh, it's not as bad as your situation, but ever since he was framed for those murders, Batman won't have anything to do with me. I was away when all that happened, and I haven't even set eyes on him since I got back. It almost seems like he's avoiding me for some reason. Funny, I always thought...well, doesn't matter. I certainly shouldn't be crying on _your _shoulder."

"I'm sorry," he told her hoarsely, suddenly feeling even worse. He _had _been avoiding her, and now he felt guilty on top of being depressed. And the only way he could apologise for making her yet another victim in this soap opera was to pretend to be expressing merely friendly condolences.

Selina shook her head slowly, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly she appeared to snap out of it.

"Well, that was maudlin," she grinned. "I guess they won't have to turn on the sprinklers tonight, huh?"

Bruce couldn't help grinning, just a little bit.

"How about the two of us walking wounded having lunch together next week?" Selina invited. "I seem to remember we have more in common than manic depression."

The smile faded. He knew the overture was made strictly out of friendship, but still it made him feel a little wary. After all, not that long ago she told him she didn't want to see him any more. "Thanks anyway, Selina, but I'm not sure that would be such a great idea right now. You understand."

"Yeah. But you don't have to be a complete stranger, either. Okay?"

He nodded. "Right. And thanks for the company this afternoon. I really ought to head back to the office now, though. I'll see you around."

Selina watched him go. "Hmm," she said to herself. "First Batman, now Bruce. I must be losing my touch."

Later that evening, the depression having passed for the moment, Bruce strode into the kitchen at Wayne Manor to find an unexpected visitor waiting for him. His teenage ward, Dick Grayson, sat at the table consuming a bag of marshmallows under the disapproving eye of Alfred Pennyworth.

"Hey, Dick. What are you doing home?" Bruce inquired cheerfully, with an affectionate pat on the boy's shoulder.

Dick swallowed his mouthful of gooey marshmallow with a gulp. "Well, I don't have any classes in the morning, and there's been an outbreak of food poisoning in the cafeteria, so I thought I'd come home for the night and take advantage of one of Alfred's culinary masterpieces."

"Providing, of course, that you haven't already spoiled your appetite by indulging in those revolting sweets, Master Dick," Alfred reproved gently.

"No problem." He reached for another.

Bruce smiled fondly. "Dick's a growing boy, Alfred," he reminded the butler. "He can eat 24 hours a day and still be ready for another meal."

"Besides, I get plenty of exercise," Dick reminded them. "Speaking of which...want some company on your rounds tonight, Bruce?"

"Sure thing." Bruce leaned against the counter, watching Alfred go about preparing dinner with effortless efficiency.

"I ran into Selina Kyle this afternoon," he announced expressionlessly. "She invited me to lunch, but I turned her down."

Alfred's tight-lipped expression relaxed noticeably at the last words. His back was to Bruce, but Dick caught the distinct look of disapproval and wondered about it. He had never met Selina, but he knew the story, and he'd always been under the impression that Alfred hoped she and Bruce could come to some sort of understanding one day.

"Maybe I shouldn't have," Bruce continued in a musing tone. "The more I think about it, the more it seems that might be just what I need: the company of a beautiful woman who isn't interested in anything other than companionship. It might be good for the two of us to be friends without wanting or expecting anything more. No pressures on either of us."

Alfred's only reply was, "Dinner will be ready in precisely twenty minutes, Master Bruce."

Bruce nodded. "Thanks, Alfred. I'll go upstairs and change. And I think I'll call Selina and tell her I've reconsidered. I owe her that much." Dick waited until his guardian was out of earshot before he spoke. "I take it you don't think that's such a hot idea, huh, Alfred?"

"No, lad, I don't."

"The old rebound thing?"

Alfred sighed. "Precisely, Master Dick. In spite of what he says, I believe at one point Master Bruce truly loved Ms. Kyle," he explained worriedly. "It's quite possible he was 'on the rebound' as you say, from that particular relationship when he met Miss Beaumont again. And in his present emotional state I shudder to think what another entanglement with her could do to him."

CHAPTER TWO

MAY

"And once again Gotham City is speculating about the identity of the mysterious 'Batgirl' who appeared suddenly on the Gotham night scene about three weeks ago. The career of the city's newest costumed crimefighter almost came to a swift end last night as this tape from a home video enthusiast shows us...."

Selina hit the mute button, putting a stop to Summer Gleeson's rather annoying voice in mid-sentence. She leaned forward, watching the images on the TV screen intently. The tape showed Batgirl, in pursuit of a burglar, attempt to leap from one rooftop to that of an adjacent building. Unfortunately she misjudged the distance, barely managing to touch the cornice before she lost her grip and fell four stories, finally catching hold of an awning and stopping her descent.

Selina winced. "That was pathetic," she told her secretary. "The girl has no idea what she's doing. I don't think she had any real training at all before she hit the streets. She'll get herself killed."

Maven Kincaid nodded in agreement. "Didn't you tell me you know who she is?" she asked.

"Mm hmm. None other than the police commissioner's only daughter. I ran across her — deliberately — a few nights ago. Wanted to find out what her game was. Starry-eyed little idiot doesn't even have enough sense to keep her mask pulled down. Some crimefighter."

It never occurred to Maven, who in her own way was as loyal to her boss as Alfred was to his master, to point out that despite the rigorous training Selina had put herself through before donning the cat mask, she hadn't been at work very long before Catwoman's arrest made her identity public knowledge.

Selina sighed, making a decision. "I'm probably going to regret this," she said as she reached for the phone book.

"I'm almost certainly going to regret this," she amended, dialing the number.

Maven smiled. Selina could protest to the ends of the earth that she was no crimefighter, and her own agenda was the only one that mattered to her, but that certainly never stopped her from doing anything heroic when she thought it was right.

Barbara Gordon picked up the phone on the third ring, grimacing a little as she jarred the fingers she sprained grabbing that awning last night.

"Hello?"

"Hello, little one. Remember me?" purred the voice on the other end.

Barbara's face drained of colour as she stammered, "Uh, I think you must have the wrong number." 

"Oh, I don't think so. I saw your exploits on the news tonight, and I wasn't very impressed. I doubt your father would be, either."

Barbara bit her lip. She was in over her head. As usual.

"I thought you said you didn't want anything from me except to satisfy your curiosity," she said, trying not to sound intimidated.

"I changed my mind. Meet me at midnight on the same rooftop as before. And try not to fall off this time, little one."

"Oh, great," Barbara told the dial tone. What in the world could Catwoman possibly want with her?

Batgirl arrived at the rendezvous point well ahead of schedule, anxious to get out of the house before her father came home from whatever emergency had called him back to the station right after dinner. To pass the time, she brought her schoolbooks, but found herself unable to concentrate on the English assignment.

She looked around the third story roof of the east Gotham apartment building. Somehow it didn't seem quite as cozy as it had a couple of weeks ago.

Sighing, she settled back and gazed out at the lights of the city. A moment later, the Bat signal flared to life in the northwest.

"Safe to say you won't be missed at home for awhile," said a husky voice from the shadows behind her.

Catwoman moved into the light and stretched with distinctly feline grace. A small, lean cat, such an unusually dark shade of grey Barbara mistook it for black at first, followed her, rubbing around her ankles.

"Well, you're on time. That's a good sign."

Batgirl stood and faced the newcomer. "Why'd you want to see me?" she asked.

Catwoman, prowling restlessly back and forth, paid no attention. Eventually she stopped, looking down at the alley below.

"So," she said, without turning. "You want to help people and fight crime, do you?" Quoting Batgirl's words from their first meeting back at her.

"Uh, right."

Catwoman turned to study the younger woman, eyes narrowing slightly behind her black mask.

"But the first rule of the game, little one, is that you have to be able to help yourself. Otherwise you'll be useless at trying to help anyone else. And if what I saw tonight was any indication, you don't seem very capable of taking care of yourself."

"Hey!" Barbara objected resentfully. "You can't — "

Catwoman smiled. "Actually, I can. But that's not the point. The point is that right now you're an unskilled amateur with no idea what you're doing most of the time. You need training. That's where I come in."

Batgirl gaped at her. "Let me get this straight — you're offering to train me? Why? What's in it for you?"

"I don't know yet," the other woman answered honestly. "But I'm _very_ good at what I do. I trained myself, by watching cats. They showed me all the moves; the rest was practice." Martial arts classes didn't hurt, either, but there was no point in telling all her secrets.

"Of course, this is a little different. You've chosen to model yourself after Batman, and his methods are very different from mine. But I have picked up a few of his tricks here and there, and I can show you the basics."

"Ohhkay," Batgirl answered slowly, hoping she wouldn't regret it.

Two and a half hours later, tired and sore and a little out of sorts to note that her tutor wasn't even out of breath, she was starting to think this might work out after all. Catwoman had given her some tips about facing off against the bad guys, and taught her some moves Barbara was fairly sure her gymnastics coach had never seen before.

She peeled back one blue-black glove, checking her watch, making a face as she saw it was after 2:30. "Ugh, I've got an 8 o'clock class!"

Selina smiled. "You should have thought of that before you picked this line of work."

"Actually, it sorta picked me."

"Mm hmm. It does that. Ready to go home, Isis, my sweet?"

The cat, serenely washing herself on the edge of the roof, looked up and gave a meow of assent, then went back to her grooming.

The two women made an appointment for their next session. Batgirl said her goodbyes to her enigmatic new teacher, grabbed her bookbag, and swung her legs over the edge to the fire-escape ladder. Unfortunately, as she did so, the toe of one boot caught the cat squarely off balance, knocking her off the roof! Barbara gasped in horror.

_"Isis!"_ screamed Catwoman. She rushed to the side, almost collapsing with relief when she saw her beloved pet safe and sound, if a little dazed, on the 2nd floor landing.

She turned furious eyes on Barbara, who climbed back on the roof, stammering apologies.

"I-I'm so sorry! I love cats. I — "

Her words ceased abruptly as she felt a stinging slap across her face. Her hand went to her cheek and she gaped at her companion, eyes tearing a little.

Catwoman got control of her temper with some difficulty. She took several deep breaths before she trusted herself to speak.

"Listen to me, you little idiot," she said coldly. "I decided to train you to keep you from getting killed, but so help me, if you _ever_ endanger my cat again I'll kill you myself!"

Barbara, still holding the injured cheek which was now turning as red as her long hair, bit her lip and tried not to flinch under the gaze of those flashing green eyes.

"D-do you still want to keep our next appointment?" she asked hesitantly.

Catwoman shrugged. "Why not?" she replied calmly, and jumped down to join Isis, leaving Batgirl staring after her openmouthed, wondering if she'd ever figure out her new acquaintance.

CHAPTER THREE

__

Over the next couple of weeks, the training sessions began to show promise that the clumsy amateur might someday actually become a crimefighter to be reckoned with. Stranger still, the two women had taken a genuine liking to each other, and were well on their way to becoming firm friends...especially since Selina now made a point of leaving Isis at home.

In spite of that, neither of them made any attempt to carry their friendship over into their personal lives. At least not until the afternoon Barbara played heroine with an injured kitten and naturally called the most qualified person she knew for help....

The Bat signal showed clearly against the dark clouds. Moments after it was turned on, Batman landed lightly on the roof of police headquarters. "What's up, Jim? I thought things seemed pretty quiet tonight." 

Commissioner James Gordon turned off the beacon and sighed.

"It's not a crime this time," he told his old friend.

"Then what?"

Gordon ran a hand through his wavy white hair and answered, "I need information — about a friend of yours. The Catwoman."

Batman's eyes narrowed slightly. "What about her? I'm pretty sure she hasn't been up to her old tricks again."

"No, nothing like that," the commissioner replied hastily. "It's just that when I went home this evening I found my daughter, a bandaged-up kitten, an astronomical vet bill, and Selina Kyle in my living room.

"Barbara says she rescued the cat from some neighborhood dogs that were mauling it. We haven't had cats in several years, and our old vet's no longer practicing, so apparently she called the one person she could think of who'd know the best. And Miss Kyle rushed to the rescue."

"She would. I didn't know they knew each other."

Gordon snorted. "Neither did I, but according to Barbara, they crossed paths a few weeks ago and took a liking to each other."

"And you're not sure you like the idea of your daughter being friends with a convicted criminal," Batman guessed.

"I just want to know if the woman can be trusted."

Batman considered carefully. "I'd trust her with my life — and I have, more than once — but not with the keys to the vault. But I wouldn't worry about Barbara if I were you," he added. "Selina has a...a _fanatical_ sense of loyalty, and if she cares about someone, she'll put herself on the line for them, to the bitter end."

Gordon nodded. He wasn't really happy about it, but he had told himself he would listen to Batman's assessment, figuring he knew Catwoman better than just about anyone.

"You probably think I'm being an overprotective father, worrying about nothing. Well, maybe I am. But it isn't easy being a single parent, believe me."

"I know," Batman answered quietly. "I know very well how hard it can be."

Gordon turned an astonished gaze on the empty spot where Batman had stood seconds before. Gone again, dammit.

He wondered what Batman had meant by his last statement. It sounded as if he was speaking from personal experience about the difficulties of single parents. Gordon thought of Robin and wondered, not for the first time, about the relationship between the two of them. Surely the boy was too old to be Batman's son, but who could tell with those masks?

Realising this was getting him nowhere, Gordon abandoned the speculation. He had problems of his own, and the promise of an early night was something altogether better to occupy his mind.

Besides, he'd promised Barbara he'd pick up some cat food on the way home.

CHAPTER FOUR

__

The terrace door opened with a tiny click. As the woman stepped inside, she brushed against the curtains, causing the faintest rustle of cloth. But small as the sounds were, they were enough to be heard. Instantly half a dozen cats converged from different corners of the darkened apartment, forming a screaming chorus at her feet.

"Hello, babies," she said softly. "Miss me? I'm sorry I'm late tonight, but it couldn't be helped."

"What have you been doing?" inquired a deep, raspy voice from the darkest corner of the room.

If she was surprised at his presence, she managed not to show it. She crossed to the sofa, gently urging a slim white cat called Nefret to stay out from under her feet, and switched on the lamp. Subdued light spilled out into the centre of the room, leaving the corners in shadow.

"I've been doing a job that by rights should be yours," she answered finally. Then she added pointedly, "Of course, you've been neglecting a lot of things lately, haven't you?"

He ignored that. "What job?"

"The girl. I've been training her."

"I'm glad. She needs it. This is no job for amateurs. But what made you decide to get involved?" he asked curiously.

Catwoman shrugged, bored with the subject. "Maybe I just decided I needed a teenage sidekick of my own," she answered offhandedly. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she asked, "Did you really come here after all these months to talk about Batgirl?"

Batman shook his head.

"Then what _did_ you come for?"

"To find out why you're suddenly so friendly with Barbara Gordon."

Catwoman, who had started toward him with her most seductive walk, stopped in her tracks. She looked surprised for a second, then something struck her as funny and she gave a husky laugh.

"I might have known Commissioner Gordon wouldn't waste much time calling you. You should have seen his face when he walked in tonight and saw me in his house! I don't think he approves of his daughter's choice of friends."

"He's just concerned about her, that's all. He wanted my advice."

"Which was?"

"Which was not to worry — Barbara can take care of herself, and you won't be a bad influence on her."

Catwoman gave a hoot of laughter. "I wouldn't count on it! Either one."

Batman didn't quite see the humour in it. "I told Gordon I trusted you. Don't make a liar out of me," he warned. 

A light touch on his arm stopped him as he turned to leave.

"I guess I should be grateful for the vote of confidence, at least," she told him seriously. "But I'm not very happy about you ignoring me until you need a favour, Batman."

"Sorry."

He stood regarding her silently, wondering if he should just leave things as they stood — unresolved but neutral — or if it would be kinder to end things between them once and for all, confirm her suspicions and risk losing a friend and ally.

In the end, she made his decision for him. Pitching her naturally sexy voice to an even more seductive tone than usual as she reached up to trace the bat emblem on his costume with one black-gloved fingertip, she purred, "I don't really want to talk about Batgirl or Barbara or her father — or about anyone else for that matter. Wouldn't you rather talk about _us?_ "

This was it. A perfect opening for a moment he'd been dreading. Gently, he moved her hand away from his chest.

"There is no 'us', Selina. Not anymore."

She'd known it all along, of course, had stoically confided to both Maven and Bruce that she thought Batman and Catwoman were finished, but the final words still came as something of a shock. She stood frozen, not quite able to grasp the reality of losing him.

He watched her, hating himself for hurting her, but unwilling to lead her on. Their alter egos had spent a considerable amount of time together the last several weeks, becoming closer friends than he would have imagined, and in all that time he hadn't been able to find more than a trace of the love he'd once felt for her. (Of course, he hadn't really _looked_, since he had convinced himself he no longer loved her.)

"So it's really over?" she asked finally, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"I'm afraid so," he answered in the same tone. "Catwoman, I'm—"

"Don't you _dare_ say you're sorry, Batman! Don't even think about it!" she interrupted with a sudden flash of temper.

He nodded briefly, grateful for the warning. "All right. Just...please don't quote that stupid line from that stupid movie." 

She managed a genuine laugh at that, having always held the same opinion of that bit of popular philosophy. She grew solemn again quickly, though.

"This isn't exactly the ending I pictured, Batman. So...quiet. Amicable. I sort of always figured we'd go out with a blaze of glory, maybe end up deadly enemies, who knows? Of course, I really always hoped it wouldn't have to end at all. I really thought it could _work_. But...maybe that was just an unrealistic dream."

"Maybe. I hoped we could make it work too, Selina."

Catwoman looked around the living room sadly. She gestured to a spot a few feet away. "Right there is where you told me you cared 'more than I would ever know', remember?" 

He nodded. "I still care," he told her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Just...not quite in the same way anymore. We're both creatures of the night, loners...too independent. Maybe it's best we just be friends."

She shook her head, reacting as if he'd slapped her. "I guess I'm not used to being on the receiving end of that line. It's not exactly pleasant."

He wondered if she was remembering the same thing he was: a cold winter morning, a limo ride, and her telling him gently but firmly, "Bruce, I like you. A lot. But as a friend." 

Remembering the pain he'd felt on that occasion, he put one hand under her chin, tilting her head to look into her face. "Will you be all right?" he asked with concern.

She shrugged away. "Cats are survivors," she said impassively. "I'm fine. See you around, friend."

Batman nodded and slipped through the terrace doors into the night, understanding himself to be dismissed.

Slowly, Selina took off the grey and black cat mask and lowered herself to the arm of the sofa. Isis, on the back, rubbed her head against Selina's comfortingly as the tears began to fall.


	2. 5-7

5-6

CHAPTER FIVE

JUNE

"Thanks for the sandwich, honey."

Barbara perched on the edge of her father's desk and gave him a benevolent smile. "No problem, Dad. I knew you wouldn't eat otherwise."

Gordon shook his head affectionately as he reached for his pipe. "You shouldn't fuss over your old man so much," he told her when he finally got it lit.

His daughter leaned toward him and confided, "You know why I fuss over you so much, Dad? Because it's the only way I can keep you from fussing over me."

"Don't you have to get back to school?"

She checked her watch. "Yeah. I better get going soon if I'm gonna make that 2 o'clock class. And I know you have an appointment to interview the next candidate for deputy commissioner. How's it going?"

"Well, they've got it narrowed down to three applicants, so now I have to interview them and make my recommendations to the mayor — not that it'll count for much. I liked the first guy, Craig Mayfield, but he hasn't got a chance."

"Why not? You're the commissioner, your recommendation has to count for something."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Not when the powers that be start playing politics, honey. The mayor's office is under a lot of pressure to appoint either a woman or a minority to the position, and Mayfield is a white male. God, I hate tokenism!" he said with disgust.

Barbara nodded understandingly, but reminded him cheerfully, "Well, who knows, maybe one of the other two will actually be qualified for the job. Besides, it's a safe bet they couldn't be any worse than Gil Mason! How about this woman you're supposed to see in a few minutes?"

"Sarah Miller? I don't know. Apparently she was on the force here several years ago, before she joined the NYPD, but the name doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid."

Barbara stood and leaned across the desk, planting a kiss on her father's forehead. "Gotta run, Dad. See you tonight. Good luck."

"Okay, princess. See you later."

As she passed through the outer office, Barbara noticed a tall, self-possessed woman of about forty, with red-gold hair, watching her curiously. The lady — and lady was an apt word, she realised — was a stranger to her, but she seemed to know Barbara somehow.

Shrugging, she gave the stranger a wide, friendly smile and went on.

"Captain Miller? Have a seat. I'll be with you in just a minute."

"Hello, Jim. Nice to see you again after all these years."

He looked up from the file slowly, shock written across his face.

"Sarah? Sarah! I can't believe it! It's been...ten years? How've you been?"

"I'm fine, Jim. Older, hopefully wiser — of course, I'm still a cop so the odds are against it — all in all, I'm hanging in there."

"You haven't changed a bit."

She smiled. "You have. But you look good with grey hair. Looks...distinguished."

Commissioner Gordon turned his head to the side, fumbling with his pipe to cover his embarrassment. He hoped he wasn't blushing. _Get hold of yourself, you idiot!_ he told himself sternly. _This is supposed to be a job interview, for heaven's sake._

Sarah took the hint and changed the subject. "I saw your daughter outside. She's really grown up, hasn't she?"

He nodded, with the chagrined expression of a man who hadn't quite come to terms with the fact his only child had suddenly become a grown woman. "Mmm," he grunted. Nodding toward the photo on his desk — a glamour shot of Barbara with her chin resting on her folded hands, long red hair spilling over one shoulder, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief — he said, "She made me get rid of my old picture of her. I've had it since she was about eight, but she kept complaining that it made her look like the girl on _Little House on the_ _Prairie. _"

She's a very lovely young woman." _Except for the fact she looks so much like her mother,_ thought Sarah.

"Well, I think so," he agreed. "But I admit I could be a little bit prejudiced."

Sarah smiled. "I was going say something inane like, 'You must be very proud of her', but that much is obvious. But then, you always were a devoted father, weren't you, Jim?"

A sudden silence filled the room, and the two of them avoided looking at each other, both caught off guard by the inappropriateness (however unintentional) of the remark.

Ten years ago, he had almost been prepared to leave his wife for this woman. If it hadn't been for their daughter, he might have done it, too.

Gordon cleared his throat, and managed a fairly normal voice. "So, um, 'Sarah Miller' huh? No wonder I didn't recognise the name. It never occurred to me that it could be Sarah Essen. Married?"

Sarah shook her head, allowing herself one tiny, sad smile. "I was. My husband died three years ago. No kids."

"I'm sorry. I know how tough it is."

She nodded. "Yes — I was sorry to hear about your wife." She even managed to mean it. 

Gordon glanced through her file again, desperate to turn the conversation in a less personal direction once and for all. "You've had quite an impressive record with the NYPD. Citations, medals...I'm sure they'll be sorry to lose you if you transfer."

"You've done pretty well for yourself, too, Commissioner. Gotham City is one of the most respected metropolitan police departments in the country. Certainly a far cry from the last time I was in this building. Of course, that's not the only thing that's changed."

He looked at her silently, waiting for her to continue. Her tone didn't sound personal, so there could be only one thing she could mean.

He was right.

"Ten years ago, one of the biggest cases we had was to bring down some nutcase vigilante in a bat costume. And now for some reason, Batman is considered the saviour of the city and has the full cooperation of the police. What in the world is that about, Jim?"

Gordon sighed, and launched into the now-familiar speech. "Batman has sources and connections we don't. He accomplishes things the department couldn't possibly do through official channels. He does more good for this city than any number of cops. And what's more important, he gives the people of Gotham some _hope_, which is a lot more than any of us have ever been able to do. And he's completely incorruptible. You've been a cop long enough you should know how important that is, Sarah." She just looked at him. He could tell she wasn't convinced, but she wasn't bothering to argue the point.

"And yes," he added, a bit defiantly, "I know Gotham City is a laughing stock to other departments for letting a vigilante in a weird costume grab all the headlines, but quite frankly I don't care."

"You still don't know who he really is?"

"No, but it's definitely not Bruce Wayne. I know that was your pet theory in the old days, but I've seen them together on occasion."

"Pity. He was the perfect suspect."

Gordon nodded. "It's occurred to me from time to time that Wayne might be one of what Batman calls his 'backers', but he's not the man behind the mask."

Sarah shifted restlessly in her chair. Gordon noticed her discomfort.

"Chairs haven't exactly improved, have they?" he smiled. "I'd offer you a cigarette if I had one, but I've traded vices." He lifted his pipe.

"That's okay. I gave it up completely."

He looked interested. "Sometimes I wish I could do that. What's your secret?"

"Oh, having your husband die of lung cancer is a wonderful incentive to stop smoking," she said lightly. Seeing his expression, she added, "Bill loved doing that to people before he died. He got a real kick out of seeing the looks on their faces." 

Gordon had no idea how to respond to that, so he looked at his watch, suddenly remembering why they were here. "Uh, well, this small talk is wonderful, Sarah, but I'm afraid it isn't accomplishing much." 

Actually, it was, he admitted to himself. If nothing else, it served to distract him from his attraction to her, which was still astonishingly strong after all this time. 

Sarah smiled. "Right. This was supposed to be an interview for the deputy commissioner's job, right?"

He nodded, then looked at her solemnly. "Sarah, I hope you understand, but because of our, uh, history, I'm going to have to recommend against your appointment. You know that, don't you?"

She reached across the desk to touch his hand. "You wouldn't be the Jim Gordon I knew if you didn't," she said admiringly.

CHAPTER SIX

"So, how come you wanted to take criminology, anyway?" Dick Grayson asked. "Especially in summer school. I thought you always said you didn't want to be a cop like your dad."

Barbara Gordon leaned back against the cushions and considered the question. "I'm still not sure I do, really. But there are..._other_ forms of law enforcement, you know," she answered mysteriously.

Dick gave her an equally enigmatic smile. "Yeah, I know."

"So, how 'bout you, Dick? You take every criminology class that's offered, but I thought you were slated to go right into Wayne Enterprises after college. What's criminology got to do with big business?"

"That shows how much you know about the business world! Anyway, I'm not sure _what_ I want to do exactly. Waynetech is more Bruce's assumption than anything else at this point."

Barbara made a face. "Ah, parents!" she sighed.

"Yeah. Speaking of which, your dad working late again?"

"He's taking the new deputy police commissioner out to dinner, and I'd hardly call that work. Can you believe it? They hired Dad's ex-girlfriend for the job, in spite of his recommendations." She snorted in disgust.

Dick nodded sympathetically. "Ex-girlfriend, huh? There seems to be an epidemic of those lately," he said, thinking not only of Andrea Beaumont, but of his guardian's growing friendship with Selina Kyle, as well.

Barbara reached for another slice of pizza. "I don't know if it's an epidemic or not, but whatever it is, Dad's got a bad case of it," she mumbled through a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese. "I tell you, Dick, it makes my skin crawl to see the way he's acting lately."

"I know the feeling," Dick agreed.

"I know you're probably thinking I'm playing jealous daughter, but that's not it, honest," Barbara continued. "I've been telling him for years he ought to find some nice woman, but I didn't mean Sarah Essen!"

"Don't like her, huh?"

She shook her head. "No, that's not it, really. Actually, Sarah seems pretty nice. It's just...promise you won't tell anybody?"

He promised.

"It's just that they had an affair while my parents were still married, and I have a problem with that. I wasn't even supposed to know about it, but you pick up a lot at that age. After all, they fought about it for a long time before they split up. And then my mom died while they were still separated...."

Dick looked at his old friend with concern. "You're not blaming this Sarah for your mother's death, are you?"

"No!" Barbara objected. "That wasn't what I meant. Oh, I don't really know what I meant, but I know you can't blame anybody for a car accident."

"At least her death _was_ an accident," Dick said gloomily, thinking about his own parents. 

The sound of the doorbell cut off Barbara's reply. She uncurled herself from her seat on the floor and threaded her way through the maze of pizza boxes and textbooks to answer it.

"Oh, hi, Selina. Come on in."

Selina Kyle held out a small bottle as she stepped through the door. "I brought you those eyedrops I told you about for the kitten. How is he?"

Dick watched in amazement as a small grey and white tabby — the same cat who earlier had taken one look at him, hissed, and fled in terror, not to be seen since — emerged from his hiding place at the sound of the newcomer's voice and ran to her, purring ecstatically when she picked him up.

"Hello, baby. Have you fully recovered from your ordeal? He certainly looks healthy enough, Barbara," she said approvingly. "I wish you hadn't named him 'Timothy', though. I've never met a Tim I liked — including the idiot that Maven's dating now."

Barbara shrugged. "Well, he just looked like a Timothy. Besides, he likes it."

"Well, then, his is the only opinion that really counts in the matter."

"By the way, I'm sorry I had to change our plans tonight." The two women exchanged a look. "I had to study for a test."

"So I see," laughed Selina, looking over the girl's shoulder toward the mess on the living room floor.

Dick got to his feet as Barbara escorted her guest into the room.

"Selina Kyle, Dick Grayson."

The two studied each other with interest. Selina was the first to speak. "Ah, yes. Bruce's boy. I've heard a lot about you from him. He's very proud of you."

Dick frowned at being described as "Bruce's boy", but his expression changed almost instantly to one of gratification at the compliment his guardian could seldom bring himself to bestow directly.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, too. I've been curious about one of the few people to actually meet Alfred's approval!" he joked.

She rewarded him with that light, throaty laugh he'd heard about. "Approval from the butler — high praise indeed!"

The threesome exchanged small talk for a few minutes, and had there been anyone present who knew the whole truth, it would have been a priceless spectacle: Batgirl, who knew Catwoman's identity but not Robin's; Robin, who knew who Catwoman was, but not Batgirl; and Catwoman, who knew Batgirl but not Robin.

Presently, Dick excused himself and left, telling Barbara he was studied out and couldn't concentrate on fingerprinting techniques, though privately he was anxious to get out there and put a few of the textbook's theories into practice.

Barbara locked the door behind him and began to clear away the mess. She and Selina both grinned at the sight of the kitten stalking the last half-slice of pizza.

"He seems like a nice kid," Selina commented.

"Who, Dick? Yeah, he is. We've been friends since we were kids. We pick at each other, but I like him a lot, anyway. He's definitely not your average spoiled, snotty rich kid."

She hesitated a few seconds, then added with a wicked grin, "He's a very _nice_ spoiled, snotty rich kid!"

Selina burst out laughing. "That's a perfect description of Bruce, too! Maybe it runs in the family."

"Maybe it does," laughed Barbara. "Dick's a _lot_ more straight, though."

"Then you two are _made_ for each other."

"Oh, don't you start that, too. Everyone in town's been trying to make Dick and me a couple since we were ten years old, and I wish they'd quit it. It'd be like going out with my own brother. Yuck."

"Besides," Selina teased, "you have to concentrate on your romance with the bird boy."

Barbara blushed. "Romance?!" she squeaked indignantly. "With _Robin?_ Oh, geez. I wouldn't even call that a mild flirtation."

"Mm hmm," purred Selina, with an infuriating smile on her face.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Catwoman glanced back over her shoulder to say something to Batgirl as she opened her terrace door. She spun around in alarm as she heard a gasp from inside the apartment.

_"Selina!?"_

She stood regarding her unexpected visitor curiously, while Batgirl pulled a comical double take at the sight of a nun in her friend's living room. She just stared from one to the other as Selina pushed back her mask and said calmly, "I thought you weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow night."

"I...um, the teacher's conference ended a day early. I thought I would come ahead and surprise you."

Catwoman gave her throaty laugh. "Looks like you were the one who got surprised, eh, Maggie?" She glanced over at Batgirl, noticing that the girl was still staring wide-eyed at the two of them. "Barbara, take off your mask and close your mouth. You look ridiculous," she sighed.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Maggie prompted.

"Always the prim and proper one. Sister Magdalene, also known as my little sister Maggie, meet Batgirl, also known as Barbara Gordon. And don't worry about your secret identity, little one," she added in a loud stage whisper. "Maggie's taken a vow of silence."

Her sister rose to the bait. "I have not! That's something completely different and you know it. I'm very pleased to meet you, Barbara. Any friend of my sister's has my eternal sympathy."

Barbara wasn't quite sure how to take that. "Um, I—I'm glad to meet you, too," she stammered. "I think I should get out of here so the two of you can catch up. Bye." She turned and retreated hastily through the window.

"She's cute," observed Maggie with a grin.

Selina laughed. "She's an only child," she explained. "Doesn't know how to take all this family bonding stuff."

"So that's the girl you've been training, is it? How old is she, anyway, about twenty?" She shook her head as Selina nodded yes. "Why would a girl like that want to do something crazy like this costumed crimefighter business? She's got her whole life ahead of her. A 20-year-old girl should be worrying about passing her next history exam, not roaming the rooftops with you."

Selina rolled her eyes. "You know, you sound just like a teacher when you say that. Barbara thinks she's making a difference, just like you've always said you wanted to. Actually," she added, letting a devilish hint of pure Catwoman creep into her voice, "maybe you should give up that cloistered jail for kids in Chicago and take up crime fighting yourself. I can just see it now: the adventures of..._Nunja Warrior_!"

Magdalene tried to look stern and disapproving, but it was all she could do not to laugh and Selina knew it. Finally she managed to control herself, and asked, "What's the matter with you tonight? You're usually so serious."

"I forgot you never saw me in costume before." Selina bent over backwards in a complicated and very cat-like stretch. "Nothing's wrong. It just takes awhile for Catwoman to go away when I've been out. I'll be Selina again in a little while. Don't look so worried," she added, seeing her sister didn't like the sound of that at all. "It's perfectly natural. Actors do it all the time; it doesn't mean I'm a candidate for Arkham."

"All right. If you say so."

"I do. Now let me change clothes and personalities, then you can tell me what's happening back in that _real_ world of yours."

The two sisters stayed up most of the night talking, then got up early and took a long walk in the park, enjoying the perfect summer weather. It was almost lunchtime when they got back to the apartment.

The sound of the doorbell caught Maggie halfway to the couch. With a sigh, she turned back to open the door, not bothering to check the peephole. "Hello," she said to the rather surprised dark-haired man on the other side.

"Well, hello, yourself," Bruce grinned. He looked her over in appreciation, bypassing the bulky sweatshirt with _St. Ann's Academy_ written in blue letters to concentrate on the long slender legs sticking out of a pair of white shorts. Lovely face, too. Very like Selina's, only lacking the toughness. "Bruce Wayne. I'm a friend of Selina's. And you are...?"

"I'm Selina's sister. You can call me Maggie." She stood back, motioning him inside.

Bruce started to go through the social pleasantries, then realised with a start, "Sister—Maggie...Sister Magdalene! I'm sorry, I didn't realise." He turned a little red, embarrassed about being attracted to a nun, even a young and beautiful one out of uniform.

Fortunately Isis provided a distraction for him. She came awake with a loud yawn, stretched, licked her shoulder a couple of times, then abandoned her sunbeam in favour of Bruce's lap. Maggie started to scold the cat, but Bruce insisted, "No, she's fine. Isis and I are old friends. And speaking of old friends, where's Selina? I thought we were supposed to have a lunch date."

Maggie laughed, liking him already. He was obviously a cat person. "She'll be back soon; she's out chasing one of her cats. Ramses bolted out the door and got into the elevator just as it closed, so Selina is trying to track him down somewhere in the building as we speak."

"Ramses...that's the big brown cat, isn't it? I remember him because he's always in trouble. And, of course, nobody could forget this little girl." He smiled down at Isis, and she rewarded him with a purr. "I can never keep all those others straight, though."

"Well, let's see." Maggie thought a minute. "Ramses' little sister is Bastet, the little white one is Nefret, the black one is Anubis, and Sethos is the orange cat. And there's Lucky, the crotchety old Persian. Selina saved him from a trash compactor years ago, when he was just a kitten. He hates everyone except her."

Privately, Bruce thought the evil-looking white Persian didn't seem any too fond of Selina, either, but he didn't say it. The cat glared at him malevolently, as if he knew what he was thinking.

Selina came back just as they were starting to run out of small talk, dropping the errant Ramses on the floor as she came in. He sat down in front of her and started to groom himself with an injured attitude. "Well, remember that next time you decide to visit the sixth floor," she told him sternly.

__

And then, "Oops!" as she caught sight of Bruce and remembered the lunch date that had slipped her mind in the excitement of her sister's early arrival. "I'm sorry, I meant to call you and cancel."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad I had a chance to meet your charming sister. We can make it some other time."

"No, don't cancel your plans on my account," Maggie objected.

Bruce considered. "All right. Come with us, then. I'll just change the reservation for three." Selina nodded her agreement.

After some argument, Maggie gave in with obvious reluctance and went to change into something more suitable. She reappeared momentarily in her modified habit, a simple outfit consisting of short veil, white blouse, and black skirt and stockings with sensible shoes. Around her neck she wore a large crucifix.

The three of them had lunch at a restaurant popular with the 'in' crowd, attracting a few curious glances from society types who wondered what Bruce Wayne was doing in the company of a nun and a former cat burglar. One of the women Bruce had dated briefly tossed her head with a loud sniff as she passed by the table.

Maggie spent most of the meal watching Bruce and Selina closely, noting the obvious physical attraction as well as the way they interacted. She found Bruce very charming, and she definitely approved of the way he looked at her sister. She was beginning to suspect why Selina mentioned him so often in her letters, probably without realising she was doing it.

Later, at home, she couldn't resist calling Selina on it, although she knew what her reaction would be.

"We're just friends, I've told you that before," Selina protested. "Good friends, yes, but it's strictly platonic."

"It didn't _look_ all that platonic," grinned Maggie.

"Oh, what would _you_ know about it, _Sister_ Magdalene?" snapped Selina. 

She calmed down with uncharacteristic speed when she saw the hurt look on Maggie's face, then she took a deep breath and apologised, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on her arm. They were barely a year apart in age, and they had been close all their lives. Maggie was one of the few people Selina would let get close to her, and one of the few she couldn't bear to hurt.

"Sorry," she whispered. "It's kind of a sore point. Bruce is one of my best friends, but that's all it can be. The one time I let myself think _maybe_ it could ever be anything else, it blew up in both our faces. I don't want that to happen again."

Maggie gave her a questioning look. "What happened?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.

Selina paced back and forth in silence for a long time, but she finally answered. "We decided to have a picnic last year, and I got caught up in the moment and let him kiss me. It just felt right. But the next thing I knew he lost control and was telling me how he'd been in love with me from the first time we met, promising to tell me all his secrets, and saying how happy we could make each other. Then he asked me to marry him...and I panicked. We didn't see each other for months after that."

"That's awful!"

"It's awful, but it's in the past now, and I want to leave it buried. Especially since we're both just getting over painful relationships. Bruce has come to his senses and just wants to be friends, and I think I'm going to do what I said I would years ago and give up the whole relationship thing. I'm no good at it."

There were so many things Maggie wanted to say to her, but she knew her sister well enough to know all of them would be wrong. So she just shook her head silently, resolving to add one more prayer to her nightly list. 


	3. 8-12

8-12

CHAPTER EIGHT

JULY

The commissioner frowned at Batman. "I thought you said she could be trusted," he said accusingly.

"You really believe Catwoman is behind this new wave of burglaries?"

Gordon nodded. "It's her M.O. down to the ground. Rich people in high-rise apartments wake up and find a nice, neat hole cut in their windows, jewelry missing and the security systems still turned on. Just exactly like her pattern last time she was on the prowl."

"That was more than 18 months ago," Batman pointed out. "Since then she's been completely clean."

"I didn't want to believe it, either — for Barbara's sake if nothing else — but who else could it be?"

Batman frowned and said nothing.

"We've had Selina Kyle in for questioning," Gordon continued. "Naturally she swears she's innocent, but she can't produce an alibi for any of the times the burglaries occurred. We don't have enough to hold her, though. Forensics hasn't been able to find one single shred of physical evidence that links Catwoman to any of the crime sites."

Batman shook his head, still not wanting to believe it. "You've ruled out the idea of a copycat thief?"

"Not completely," admitted Gordon. "But there is one more piece of information that would seem to link it to her: most of the wealthiest people in town have been hit, even the ones who live in virtual fortresses. But there's one name conspicuously absent from the list."

"Bruce Wayne."

"Right. I admit it's just speculation, but Wayne's the richest man in Gotham City — and a close friend of Kyle's."

Batman nodded. "I'll talk to her," he promised non-committally.

"I _am_ innocent, you know," she told him calmly.

Batman just looked at her.

Catwoman sighed, taking his expression to mean he _didn't_ know. "I still have three and a half years to go on my probation. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is go back to jail. So why would I be stupid enough to risk everything now?"

"I don't know. But you believed you had good enough reason to turn to a life of crime before."

She turned away from him, making a disgusted sound halfway between a sigh and a hiss. The she faced him again.

"I did have good reason, and I'm not at all sorry for what I did," she told him unrepentantly. "These people who spray paint fur coats are missing the point completely. The rich slobs who wear them are just going to go out and buy another fur to replace the coat that got ruined, killing more animals in the process. My method had a lot more class. Not only did the people who sanctioned killing animals simply to use their skins as a status symbol get what they had coming to them, but I managed to get a 'donation' for saving the mountain lions. Now, don't you think that's a lot more intelligent than paint?"

"What it _is_, is a crime, Catwoman," he told her severely.

She shrugged. "Well, if you want to get technical. But I did give everything I stole to wildlife charities. If you'd check — "

"I did. There have been several large anonymous donations lately. The largest went to your mountain lion preserve." 

"That still doesn't prove anything. I'm sure the donations don't come anywhere close to the amount that's been stolen. Obviously someone's been making a tidy profit and using these donations as a blind to try to frame me."

"Who would do that? And why?"

Catwoman snorted. "I have made a few enemies here and there. You should know something about that, Batman." She moved closer to him, peering up into his face. "You believe me, don't you?" she asked ingenuously.

Batman averted his face. "No," he answered softly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not entirely convinced you had nothing to do with this."

Catwoman stared at him in shock, hurt and anger mingling in her expression. With a sound like a low growl, she backed away from him, perching on the edge of the roof while she uncoiled her whip. She glared at him. "Thank you for your loyalty and friendship," she spat. "I'm touched. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find out who's been setting me up — with or without your help." She wound her cat o' nine tails around the leg of a stone gargoyle and swung herself off the building.

Batman watched her go, feeling like dirt. _What's happened to us?_ he wondered. _We used to trust each other. _He had wanted to believe her. And she had seemed so _sincere_ in protesting her innocence. But, he reminded himself, he had good reason to know what a talented liar she was.

Besides, it was only a few months ago he had had a painful lesson about people not being what they appeared. The sweetest, most innocent woman he'd ever known had turned out to be a psychotic killer.

Shaking his head sadly, he crossed slowly to the other side of the roof. He pointed his grappling gun at the supports of the heavy neon sign on top of the building next door and fired, briefly checking the security of the line before he swung out into the darkness.

It was two nights later.

He stood on another rooftop in another, ritzier part of town, his cape billowing out behind him in the wind, eyes searching the neighborhood for any signs of disturbance.

He was about to move on when a slight movement from the apartment across the street caught his eye. As he watched, a woman in a familiar grey and black costume emerged from the darkened window, clutching a small bag. Perched on her shoulder was a dark grey cat.

Batman hurriedly ducked out of sight, but not before she had spotted him.

She hurried down the fire escape, pausing when she reached the street to look back at his hiding place and blow a kiss in his direction.

With a feeling of bitter disappointment, he used his batline to lower himself to the pavement and started off in pursuit. He caught sight of her once, but lost her among the countless hiding places in the dark alleyway.

CHAPTER NINE

The intercom on Bruce Wayne's desk buzzed. He reached out and flipped a switch.

"Yes, Dana?"

His secretary's rich, Jamaican-accented voice came from the speaker. "Mr. Wayne, there's a Miss Kincaid here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment, but she says she knows you and it's an emergency."

Bruce thought a moment, trying to place the name. Then it hit him. "Wait a minute. Is that Maven Kincaid?"

There was a brief pause as Dana conferred with the visitor, then she answered in the affirmative.

"Send her in," he instructed, wondering what Selina's secretary wanted with him. He stood and walked toward her, extending his hand in a friendly gesture. "Maven, hello. What can I do for you?"

She stopped just inside the threshold, gazing around her in open-mouthed astonishment at the sheer size of the room. "All this for one office? Gosh. Oh, sorry," she said, catching hold of herself.

Her voice, as always, took him by surprise. In a way, it was as deep and raspy as Selina's, but where her employer sounded cool and elegant, Maven somehow managed an incongruous little girl squeak.

Bruce urged her to have a seat, offered coffee, played the gracious host. Then he noticed she wasn't responding, but just sitting there nervously twisting the end of her brown ponytail.

"What's wrong, Maven?" he asked with concern.

She looked up at him with troubled eyes. "I'm worried about Selina. Bruce — she's disappeared!"

He sat down heavily and stared at her across the huge desk. "Disappeared? What do you mean she's disappeared?"

"I haven't seen her in two days. The police showed up with an arrest warrant this morning, and they think she's run off. But I don't — I _know_ she's in trouble, Bruce! And Isis is gone, too."

"Wait a minute. Calm down and start at the beginning." 

Maven took a deep breath, and organized her chaotic thoughts into an ordered narrative, like the efficient professional secretary she was.

"When I got to work yesterday, Selina wasn't at the apartment. Normally I wouldn't think anything about it, just figure she'd gone out early. But the cats nearly took me down when I came in the door — screaming and howling and running around like maniacs. Their water dish was empty, and they hadn't been fed...and Selina would never go out without taking care of the cats first. And when I counted, there were only six of them. Isis was nowhere to be found."

Bruce frowned. "And Selina never came home at all yesterday?"

"No. And she missed an important meeting with her lawyer yesterday afternoon. I stayed late, and kept calling the apartment last night, but there was no answer. When I got there this morning, everything was exactly the same as yesterday. She hadn't been home at all."

"What happened with the police? I assume it's something thing to do with those burglaries I read about?" he asked innocently.

Maven nodded. "Yeah. She hasn't done anything, but it looks bad. They found grey cat hair at the scene of the last robbery, so they seem to think that proves she did it. And that loud-mouthed detective — the one with the toothpick — accused me of lying when I said I didn't know where she was. I thought he was going to arrest me for a minute."

Bruce gave her an understanding smile. "I know. Detective Bullock's company manners leave a little to be desired. Now, think, Maven. Are any of Selina's things missing? Clothing, makeup, whatever?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Like I told the police, the only things missing are the Catwoman costume, her whip, and Isis."

He sat back, considering. His encounter with Catwoman in the alleyway had been night before last, and apparently she never made it home that night. His catching her in the act could have conceivably made her decide to disappear, but he knew all too well how difficult it would be to get anywhere in costume. And of Catwoman's few known allies, only Maven would be prepared to help her evade the law. She obviously knew nothing, however, which was odd in itself; she usually knew every move her employer made.

Of course, Selina could take care of herself, he told himself reassuringly, but what could have happened to her? Worried now in spite of himself, Bruce leaned forward and faced Maven squarely, knowing she didn't want blithe reassurances. "I'm glad you came to me, Maven. What can I do to help?"

"Oh." She looked blank for a second, then embarrassed. It was obvious she hadn't thought beyond sharing the burden with someone who cared about Selina Kyle as a person, not a wanted criminal.

"I don't really know," she admitted sheepishly. "Detectives, or — no. I don't suppose you know how to get in touch with Batman, do you?"

Bruce gave her a look she couldn't read. "I could try," he said.

CHAPTER TEN

That night, Batman and Robin investigated Selina's apartment. As their flashlights probed the dark interior, Robin made a gagging sound.

"Sheesh," he whispered. "I usually like art deco — within reason. But this is way too much!"

"We're conducting an investigation, Robin, not an interior decorating seminar," his partner reminded him sternly. He opened a desk drawer and began rifling through the contents. "I'll look out here, you search the other room."

"Right."

As Robin passed through the arched doorway into the bedroom, he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Reacting with lightning quick reflexes, he executed a graceful judo flip and had the intruder pinned on the floor before the heavy vase had a chance to make contact with his head.

"Ow!" protested a voice he was beginning to know all too well.

"I might have known," he said in a normal voice, letting her go.

Batgirl hauled herself to her feet, rubbing her sore behind. "Robin! You...you...!" she spluttered indignantly.

Robin grinned at her. "Y'know, you're awfully cute when you're mad, but we've really gotta stop meeting like this."

She gave him a sour look. "Jerk," she muttered.

They both looked up as a tall, dark shape appeared in the doorway.

"Uh...hi," stammered Batgirl. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Same thing you are," Batman answered tersely. "Trying to find Selina Kyle."

"Oh, so now you care?" the girl said nastily, before she could stop herself. She knew about his recent history with Catwoman, and was resentful for her friend's sake.

The look Batman gave her made her take a couple of involuntary steps backwards.

"Have you found anything?" he asked coldly.

Batgirl shook her head. "No. Nothing that shows where she might have gone by herself, and if she's been kidnapped it didn't happen here."

Meanwhile, Robin was busy searching through the drawers of the makeup table. "Hey," he interrupted, "what about the loot from those jewel robberies? Has anybody found that?"

Batgirl turned on him fiercely. "No! And if we had, it would be because somebody planted it. Catwoman's innocent."

"How do you know?" Batman asked gently. He was touched by her loyalty, but he couldn't forget the picture of the grey-clad figure blowing him a kiss as she escaped from the apartment she'd just burglarized.

"I just know, that's all," insisted Batgirl, setting her mouth in a stubborn line.

"Women's intuition?" scoffed Robin.

She scowled at him. "No. It's called loyalty to a friend. But I guess you wouldn't know about that, huh?" she snapped, with an accusing look at Batman.

"This is getting us nowhere," he growled, and headed back into the living room.

Batgirl started to follow, but Robin laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Lay off," he told her softly. "Give the guy a break, will ya? You think this is easy for him? He cares about her."

"He's got a great way of proving it," she said, but the anger had gone out of her voice.

Robin shook his head. "Look, I have no idea what happened between those two, and neither do you," he scolded gently. "But even if they're not...involved anymore, I know Catwoman means a lot to him. And he feels guilty about her going back to her life of crime."

"She hasn't!" snapped Batgirl. Then, curiously, "Why would he feel guilty even if she had?"

He shrugged, hesitating. It was all speculation on his part, really, but knowing Bruce, he had a feeling his theory was the right one.

"It's just...well, I think Batman believes that if Catwoman gave up being a thief for him in the first place, then there's nothing to stop her from going back to it since he broke things off with her."

Batgirl stared at him in disbelief. "Oh, my..." she groaned. "There's absolutely no limit to the mighty male ego, is there? I'm not even going to justify that with an answer."

With that, she swept into the living room, followed by Robin. They were alone in the apartment, and Batgirl looked around in confusion.

"Where is he?"

In answer, Robin pointed out the terrace door, where the Bat signal lit up the sky. "Gotta go," he said briefly, reaching for the grappling gun on his belt.

"Can I come, too?" Batgirl asked plaintively as she watched the small hook launch itself toward the building across the street.

Robin gave her a brief frown of discouragement, then swung out on his batline.

She watched him disappear, then shrugged. "Well, he didn't say no," she said to herself, launching a line of her own.

When the pair caught up with Batman, he was already deep in conversation with Commissioner Gordon and Sarah Miller.

Seeing the newcomers, Gordon broke off to introduce them to the deputy commissioner (who was clearly not too happy to have to deal with not just one but three masked crimefighters) and give them a brief recap of the new case.

"As I was telling Batman, I just got a call saying Red Claw has escaped from federal prison and is thought to be in this area. She broke out nearly two weeks ago, and the blasted feds just now get around to warning us," he complained bitterly. "When I think of the trouble she caused last time! Held the whole city for ransom with the threat of a viral plague. If it hadn't been for Batman — "

"And Catwoman..." interrupted the Dark Knight in a low voice. 

A few pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together in his mind. Catwoman did more to bring Red Claw down than I did, he thought. And if she's back in town wanting revenge, it could just be that Selina was telling the truth about being set up after all. Find one and we may find the other.

And if that was the case, finding Catwoman was now an even more urgent priority.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Batgirl was never sure how he did it, but within 24 hours Batman had the word out on the street that a fabulous collection of diamonds would be on display at the Gotham Museum for one day only.

What wasn't generally known was that one of the more spectacular pieces now contained a microscopic tracking device in the clasp. When the thief struck, as he was sure she would, it would be a simple matter for the three crimefighters to tail her wherever she went.

The plan was in place, and now all they could do was wait. Batgirl squirmed and readjusted her position, leaning back against the air-conditioning unit on the museum roof. She looked at her companions enviously. They seemed comfortable enough, but she was still getting used to this part of the job.

"Hey, don't you think she'll know it's a trap?" she whispered.

"Yes," Batman answered in the same tone. "That's why she won't be able to resist."

He sat with his back to the other two, scanning the horizon in every direction through a pair of high-powered binoculars.

Watching him, Robin gave voice to a question that had been bothering him ever since he heard the news of Red Claw's escape — and Batman's reaction to it.

"You think Catwoman really is innocent?" he asked. He saw his partner's shoulders tense.

"We'll know soon enough." Batman hesitated a split second, then added grimly, "I don't care if she's innocent or not; I just want her safe."

Robin and Batgirl exchanged a look. Rather than the _"I told you so"_ she'd been expecting, she saw only concern in the young man's face.

Batman made an abrupt motion for silence as a slender grey form landed lightly on the edge of the roof. Unaware she was being watched, the woman took a small, diamond-tipped knife tipped knife from her boot and began to cut an opening in the skylight. The Dark Knight's eyes narrowed at the sight of the knife.

The Maltese cat she carried on her shoulder got down and began to prowl restlessly. Batgirl held her breath as it paused beside the air-conditioner, looking at the trio with questioning yellow eyes.

The silent whistle called it back to the other side of the roof and through the hole in the skylight. As the cat darted past her, Batgirl saw something that caused her to open her eyes wide and point at the retreating form. Before she could say anything, however, a green-gloved hand clamped itself over her mouth. She turned a ferocious glance on Robin but he merely grinned at her and put a finger to his lips as a reminder to her to keep her voice low.

"That's not Isis!" she whispered excitedly. "That cat's a boy."

"And that's not Catwoman," said Batman in a flat, quiet voice.

Although she longed to tell both of them "I _told_ you she was innocent," something in Batman's expression made her check the impulse.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The tracking device in the diamond bracelet led the threesome to an abandoned fairground outside the city. There they found the cat, now wearing the bracelet as a collar, and exactly half the jewels, but a peremptory search of the grounds produced no sign of the CopyCat.

Batgirl was all for making a more thorough search, but Batman insisted it would be better to wait a bit, with the three of them keeping watch at strategic points around the park.

The "watch and wait" method paid off shortly when Robin spotted a figure moving quickly through the grounds. He alerted his partners, then stealthily followed Red Claw to a line of dilapidated circus cars. He watched her enter one decorated with faded renderings of lions and tigers, then sat back to wait for Batman.

Inside the trailer, unaware that she had been followed, Red Claw studied her "guests" with a smile of amusement.

Catwoman, tied securely to one of the interior bars of the cage, was admittedly not looking her best. Her mask was off, revealing a number of bruises and scratches on her usually beautiful face. A few strands of blonde hair clung to patches of dried blood. Capturing her had taken quite a fight, and two of the terrorist's henchmen still showed a few scars themselves.

Lying well within her sight, but tantalizingly out of reach, were her black, shoulder-length gloves. Gloves which contained a spring-loaded mechanism that worked the incredibly sharp diamond-tipped claws that had inflicted the scars, and were more than capable of cutting through rope.

In a small, decidedly unsanitary cage by her side, Isis meowed pitifully. She was a sensitive cat who had been raised in luxurious surroundings with copious doses of affection from not only Selina and Maven, but also the other cats, who regarded her as very much the queen of the household. Her treatment in their three days of captivity had been a shock to her system, and Isis had lost even more weight than her mistress.

Catwoman looked at her in concern, murmuring comforting sounds. When the crying stopped, she turned to Red Claw with a venomous look in her eyes.

"Oh, when I get my claws into you, you're definitely going to regret this," she threatened.

The terrorist merely laughed, knowing fully well her prisoner was powerless to act on her threats. "Don't worry, Kitty Cat," she said soothingly. "You and your pretty pet will soon be put out of your misery — and mine. My partner has ruined your reputation as thoroughly as you ruined mine, and in a very profitable way I might add. So you will have soon outlived your usefulness."

"Oh, let me guess: this is where the villain reveals the whole dastardly plot to the victim, right? You're such a cliché, Red Claw."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "I don't read spy novels, Ms. Kyle. I'm afraid you'll have to do without your exposition scene. Not to mention your momentous rescue."

"Don't count on it," said a deep voice from out of nowhere.

Red Claw looked up just in time to see a caped figure swoop down on her from the trap door in the ceiling. She barely had time to exclaim, "Batman!" before he snapped his handcuffs on her wrists and turned his attention toward freeing Catwoman.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, as he pulled the last of the rope from her hands. There was something in his voice she had thought she would never hear again, but she ignored it.

"I'm fine," she answered shortly. She rubbed her aching wrists for a few seconds, then forgot her own discomforts as she concentrated on soothing her pet. Taking the cat into her arms, she murmured, "Isis, my precious, what have they done to you? Don't worry; you're safe now, my love."

Batman watched with disappointment but very little surprise, knowing both how important Isis was to her, and how angry she was with him.

Taking advantage of Batman's preoccupation with Catwoman, Red Claw seized the opportunity to try to escape. She sprinted for the door, but was immediately grabbed by Robin and Batgirl, who stood guard on either side.

"Oh, no you don't," Robin told her cheerfully.

She relaxed, and he made the mistake of loosening his grip just a tiny bit. Small as it was, it was enough for Red Claw. Without warning, she managed to turn slightly and plant a ferocious kick in Batgirl's face, sending her sprawling. She wrenched herself free of Robin's grasp when he turned to make sure the girl was okay.

"Nice going," he snarled at Batgirl, who sat on the ground, holding her injured jaw and sniffling. Furious with her, but even angrier at himself, he tore the batarang and line from his belt and threw it at the escaping terrorist.

Luckily Red Claw was no longer in top physical condition after her time in prison, and her bound hands were seriously affecting her balance. Robin's line caught her around the ankles, and she toppled forward, landing ungracefully on her face.

He trussed her up more securely, then turned back to look at Batgirl. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on this baggage, and you better go let the police know what's going on," he ordered.

She wiped her eyes and nodded, still sniffling. As she passed him, she felt a hand touch her on the sleeve. She turned to find Robin smiling at her, a friendlier expression in his eyes.

"Cheer up. I'm sorry I yelled at you; it was more my fault than yours," he admitted. Then he added with a facetious grin, "Come on, now. Big Batgirls don't cry!"

Inside, after making sure his young partners had the situation in hand, Batman turned his full attention to Catwoman.

She continued to ignore him, still cooing to the cat, as he fumbled with apologies.

"Catwoman," he began hoarsely. "Selina...I'm sorry. I was wrong. About everything."

She flashed him a decidedly unfriendly look, but said nothing. She was one cat who believed in holding a grudge.

"I'm sorry I doubted you," he continued. "I should have trusted you, believed you when you said you were being set up. I was wrong about you being guilty."

"Yes. You were."

Gently, he touched her hand. "That's not all," he told her haltingly, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I was wrong when I said I didn't care about you the same way I used to. I thought it was true, but...." He let his words trail off, shaking his head.

Her expression softened as she realised what he was trying to say to her. Putting Isis down gently, she moved closer to him and peered up into his face.

"Are you actually trying to say you love me, Batman?"

He nodded slowly. "Always."

Batgirl and Robin returned, congratulating themselves on a job well done. In the doorway of the trailer, they pulled up short.

Batman and Catwoman were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing passionately but with great tenderness.

Robin backed out quickly, pulling Batgirl after him. "Let's get out of here," he whispered.

She nodded and followed him through the fairgrounds, avoiding the flashing red and blue lights of the police cars, until they stood in front of the Batcycle.

"You were right about him," admitted Batgirl. "I guess he does care."

Robin shrugged. "Batman's not a great one for showing his feelings, but I finally figured out that that doesn't mean he doesn't have them. Anyway, you were right, too. About her. You were the only one of us who was."

She gave him a self-satisfied little smile and said nothing.

He took the helmet from the handlebars and offered it to her. "Can I give you a lift someplace?"

"Ummm, McAllen Park, I guess. I can get home from there."

Retrieving the Batcycle's spare helmet from the storage area beneath the seat, Robin put it on and straddled the bike, looking at Batgirl expectantly. "Hop on."

She climbed on behind him and linked her arms around his waist, suddenly glad of his company now that all this was over. And she sensed he was happy she was around, too. 

*****

When Batman returned home in the small hours of the morning, Alfred, looking proper and distinguished even in robe and pajamas, was there in the Batcave to meet him.

The Dark Knight climbed slowly out of the Batmobile and made his way across the chamber, leaning wearily over the chair at his computer console.

"Robin tell you what happened?"

The butler gave a prim little nod. "Yes, sir. I am relieved Miss Selina is all right."

"That's not what I was talking about, Alfred," Batman responded, without looking at him.

Alfred sighed. "Master Dick did indeed inform me of the incident to which you're referring, Master Bruce. And if you'll permit me, sir, it fails to come as a complete surprise."

Batman chuckled softly, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Well, it surprised me. I talked myself into believing that everything I felt for Selina was just friendship and attraction," he said, fingers clenching and unclenching on the back of the chair. "But it's just not true. I've been in love with her since I met her, and I still am."

"Yes, sir."

He reached up to remove the black cowl, stood twisting it in his hands. "I've been walking around like a dead man all year. Numb. Not feeling anything. And it's like she's brought me back to life, Alfred."

"Indeed, sir. I fancied I had detected a certain lightening of the spirits due to Ms. Kyle's presence. A welcome change, if I may say so, Master Bruce."

But Bruce wasn't ready to be cheered up. He was still too busy torturing himself about the pain his behaviour had caused her. She had given Bruce Wayne her friendship and understanding when he was hurting, and had offered Batman nothing short of unconditional love — even without any promise of a real relationship — and he had repaid her with distrust and betrayal.

Angrily, he hurled the mask onto the console. "Now the whole thing starts all over again," he said bitterly. "A _menage a trois_ for two. She'll got on thinking of Bruce as her best friend and Batman as the man she loves, without ever knowing we're the same person. That can't be good for her. Of course, knowing my identity didn't exactly help Andrea, did it? It's like loving me is a guaranteed invitation to misery."

Alfred pursed his lips, disapproving of the self-pity he heard. He had raised Master Bruce from the time he was born, and almost every day he had to decide between letting his moodiness run its course or giving him the stern talking-to he often needed.

This time he chose the former. "There are those of us who find the cost not prohibitive," he reminded him.


	4. 13-18

13-18

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

By early the next week Selina Kyle was back to her old self. The cuts had healed, and the faint bruises that still remained were carefully concealed with makeup. And to judge by her demeanour as she cheerfully recounted her adventures to Bruce across the luncheon table, her psychological scars seemed to be healing rapidly, also.

"I even got a personal apology from the commissioner of police, can you believe it? Of course, I'm sure Barbara was behind it, but it was still very satisfying. He didn't quite know what to think when I told him Bullock should be the one to apologise, for harassing my secretary. But he cheered up when I told him I was thinking of becoming a professional crimefighter — said they need all the help they can get."

"The more the merrier, eh?" grinned Bruce.

Selina laughed. "Something like that, I guess."

"So, how's the investigation going? They still haven't found the CopyCat yet?" he asked, as if he wasn't spending a large portion of his nights trying to track down the woman who now seemed to have disappeared as suddenly and mysteriously as she had appeared.

She sighed. "No. No leads at all. Even Red Claw claims not to know who she is — and I believe her; she'd sell out her own mother just to ensure she doesn't go down alone. Apparently this woman is just someone with her own score to settle, so it was expedient for them to join forces to get rid of me. But I can't figure out who I might have crossed badly enough to warrant all that."

Selina lapsed into a brooding silence and concentrated on her salad. Bruce, respecting her privacy, didn't try to intrude. Finally, her good humour returning, she shrugged.

"Well, at least I can't say it was all bad. I did get something out of it."

Bruce raised his eyebrows questioningly, half-expecting her to mention her reconciliation with Batman, but hoping she wouldn't.

But she had something else in mind. "After all, I did get another trained cat out of the deal. You certainly can't blame him for the company he was keeping, and he'll make a wonderful mate for Isis if I ever decide to breed her." 

"What'd you name him? No, wait — let me guess. Osiris, right?"

Selina gave a husky laugh. "Very good. You know your Egyptian mythology, I see."

"Only a little," he admitted. "Mostly I know you. I figured since most of your cats have Egyptian names, you'd have to name this one after the god who was married to Isis." 

She laughed. "I guess you could say I approve of the way the ancient Egyptians worshipped cats."

Bruce smiled indulgently. "Like you."

Her expression grew serious. "Perhaps. I'll admit I like most cats better than most people. They don't let you down, the way people do."

She grimaced, as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. "That's one thing about something like this happening: you certainly find out who your real friends are. Almost everyone I know assumed I was guilty, no matter what I said. Even Batman, and he of all people should know what it feels like to have everyone turn against you for something you didn't even do!"

Since he did know very well, Bruce stared down at his plate feeling about two inches tall. It was amazing how she could twist the knife in his gut without even knowing it was there. 

Completely unconscious of the effect her words were having on his guilty conscience, Selina continued to make it even worse. "I don't know what I would have done if it hadn't been for a few loyal friends who stood by me. It's nice to know there are a few people who never doubted me, like Maven and Barbara. And you, of course," she added with a warm smile.

One look at his face told her everything. Her smile faded, to be replaced by an expression he had hoped never to have to see again: the same hurt, angry look of stunned disbelief Batman had seen that night on the rooftop when he told her he wasn't convinced she was innocent.

"No," she said in a wounded voice. "Oh, Bruce...not you, too?"

"Selina, I don't know what to say," he told her. Anything but "I'm sorry"; it seemed all he ever did these days was apologise to her.

She shook her head. "Don't say anything," she answered, getting up to leave.

She was very surprised to discover that for some reason, his lack of faith in her hurt even more than Batman's. Somehow she almost expected him to doubt her, but it was different with Bruce. Ever since the night they met he had behaved as if he thought she was the next best thing to perfect, and it was a shock to find that the pedestal, however unwanted it might be, wasn't quite as steady as she had assumed.

Bruce watched her leave, then, hurriedly throwing a few bills on the table to cover the check (much more than adequately), he got up to follow her.

He caught up with her outside the restaurant, as she stood waiting for a cab. Taking hold of her wrist, he said gently, "Selina, please. Let me explain."

A taxi appeared at that moment, and she hesitated as it pulled to the curb. The driver looked at her expectantly, but she shook her head no, waving him on.

"All right," she told Bruce. Since the restaurant didn't offer valet parking, they began the three-block walk to his car.

"It was quite a shock to find out you were a cat burglar when we met," he began. "And since then I've never known quite what to expect from you. But that's okay; it makes for a very interesting friendship to say the least."

Selina smiled at him, already starting to forgive him. "You're not exactly as predictable as I first thought, either."

They reached the Cord, and Bruce stood leaning his weight against the passenger door, not looking at Selina. He gave no sign of having even heard the interruption.

"That was a minor shock to the system. Especially compared to what happened last year. I mean, we barely knew each other at the time, and all you did was play Robin Hood for the mountain lions. But, um, I thought I knew everything about Andrea. Everything she thought, everything she felt. Only the one thing I didn't know was that she was an assassin." 

Selina leaned against the car, too. She had no idea how to respond, so she merely touched his hand in a gesture of sympathy. His fingers closed around hers, and he turned to face her.

"Sometimes I really don't know what to believe about anyone anymore," he said candidly.

Recovering himself, he opened the door for her. As he walked around to his own side, Selina said quietly to herself, "Sometimes I don't know what to think about some people, either." 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

AUGUST

Charity balls were one of the great mainstays of Gotham high society, and the annual benefit for the various Animal Rights groups was one of the most popular, largely because it was a masquerade.

Everyone who was anyone was there. Meaning, of course, all the most deplorable stuffed-shirts and dippy heiresses in town. Typically, there were an offensively large number of alligator purses in the room, but fortunately the warm weather deterred the more tactless socialites from appearing in fur coats. Needless to say, the scheduling of the ball for late August was far from coincidental.

The guest list also included the senior members of all the different animal welfare societies. Selina was there representing her group, the Animal Rights Action League. Fanatical without being militant, the League was one of the most successful in the country. Admittedly part of their success was due to Catwoman's notoriety, but good leadership and excellent business acumen played a large part, too.

Their prosperity allowed them to devote untold thousands of dollars to their cause, and still have enough to pay their senior staff members very good salaries. Technically, Selina Kyle was a consultant rather than an employee, but her exceptional business skills allowed her to turn fairly large consulting fees into a small fortune.

Selina threaded her way through the crowded ballroom of the Gotham Plaza Hotel, conscious of the admiring stares she drew in her black strapless evening gown and black-sequined cat mask. She spoke to a few people, politely since she was trying to raise money, but she wasn't really interested in anything they had to say.

Finally, as she neared the bar, she spotted welcome relief. "Excuse me," she said to the long-winded businessman who was currently trying to monopolize her company. "This really is fascinating, but I see someone I simply _must_ talk to."

"I understand. Maybe I'll run into you again later."

_Not if I can help it,_ she thought. 

Making her way to the bar, she collapsed against it and sighed with disgust. She took off the mask and made a face at the tall, burly man who stood next to her in an impeccable tuxedo and bear mask.

"Tell me something, Bruce. This is the world you grew up in, so how did you ever manage to avoid turning out like the rest of these bozos?"

He chuckled. "Actually, I understand it's the subject of some debate as to whether I did or not. And by the way, how'd you know it was me?"

Selina winked at him. "I know you too well, my friend. You can't hide from me no matter what mask you put on."

Bruce coughed, glad the papier-mâché mask kept her from seeing his face just at that moment.

"So, you want to go get some air?" he asked, when he trusted himself to speak.

"I thought you'd never ask. Let's get out of here!"

Selina turned and made for the terrace doors, but Bruce lingered for a moment. He reached behind his head to untie the string, then stood staring ironically at the bear mask in his hands. In a sudden fit of irritation he hurled the thing to the floor and crushed it to powder beneath his heel before following Selina outside.

She stood next to a high hedge, twirling her sequined mask on it its string. Bruce watched, enchanted, as the light of the full moon worked its magic on her face and hair.

Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up with a questioning smile.

"You look more beautiful than I've ever seen you," he said huskily. He crossed to her, taking one of her black-gloved hands in both of his as he looked down into her face. "No one here tonight can even come close."

Gently, Selina pulled away. "Why, Bruce, how sweet. Thank you," she said casually.

Privately, his words and the look in his eyes filled her with dread. She remembered how it had been when they first met. In spite of a decidedly unfavourable first impression, she had quickly learned to like him very much...but that's all. Unfortunately, that hadn't been all there was to it for him. He had seemingly worshipped her like a goddess, which was admittedly flattering, but disconcerting and uncomfortable enough to make her avoid his company as much as possible.

Now it seemed as if history was beginning to repeat itself. The last thing Selina wanted was to lose his friendship, which had become surprisingly important to her over the last few months, but she wasn't sure she could go through that again. Especially now, when things were finally getting back on track with Batman, just like she had always wanted.

And yet, she had seen a completely new side to Bruce since that unfortunate affair with his old girlfriend. Much of his flippant, eternally cheerful facade had crumbled, and he let her get an occasional glimpse of the real Bruce Wayne. She liked what she saw.

Her reaction to his compliment wasn't exactly encouraging, but he felt he had to try, anyway. "Selina, I — " he began.

"Oh, Brucie — _there_ you are!" an arch voice interrupted. "I've been looking all over for the two of you. I might have known I'd find you out here having a romantic assignation by moonlight!"

"That's very amusing, Ronnie," Bruce told the newcomer with a laugh, although the glint in his eye suggested he didn't find it particularly funny.

Veronica Vreeland had been described as the debutante from hell. She was a spoiled, auburn-haired beauty with a large trust fund, and most people said what she lacked in brains, she utterly failed to make up for in personality. There was more than a little truth in that, but she did have a few redeeming qualities. For one thing, she was one of the few real friends Bruce had. It was Veronica who comforted him every time he got his heart broken by some woman he'd talked himself into believing he loved after two weeks. And it was Veronica who knew him well enough to understand that with Selina it was the real thing.

"Bruce, you should be ashamed of yourself, monopolizing Selina like this. Why, she's the hit of the party! A real local celebrity."

Veronica was a great one for believing infamous guests were perfect for livening up dull parties. This was the same woman who once dated the Penguin in hopes he would prove amusing to her high-society guests. She had paid the price for that piece of stupidity, but obviously she hadn't learned from it.

"You know," she told Selina in an aggrieved tone, "I was really disappointed when you turned out to be innocent. I mean, I thought I'd been robbed by the famous Catwoman. It's kind of a kick to have one's jewels stolen by a real celebrity, but being robbed by just an ordinary thief is _such_ a bore. Especially dealing with the insurance companies and all that pesky nonsense. Ho hum." 

Selina greeted this with a slight curl of the lip. "Terribly sorry to have disappointed you, Miss Vreeland. Next time I get kidnapped and framed for a crime I didn't commit, I'll be sure and take that up with my captors."

Bruce laughed, relishing the effectiveness of the put-down. "You know, Ronnie," he said in mock-seriousness, "you should find it comforting to know that the CopyCat was in the employ of the world's most ruthless terrorist leaders."

"Well, there is some consolation in that," she allowed. "But couldn't you have at least worn your Catwoman mask instead of that one?"

"The invitation said 'Selina Kyle'; Catwoman wasn't invited," Selina answered sweetly. Running her hand along the length of one of the black, shoulder-high gloves she wore, she added, "Besides, I already had to borrow part of her outfit."

As if to prove her point, she unsheathed the claws in the right glove.

"My goodness, those things look sharp enough to slit someone's throat!" gasped Veronica.

Selina studied her talons, considering. "Hmmm. I don't know if they would or not. Shall we try it and find out?"

Veronica disappeared quickly, and Bruce laughed, "I can't take you anywhere, can I?"

"Well, it got rid of her, didn't it?"

Later that night, Selina sat at her dressing table, attended by the faithful Maven.

"Did everything go all right at the party?" asked Maven.

"Personally or professionally? Professionally things went very well. I'd say this was one of our more successful fund-raisers."

"But not so good personally, huh?"

Selina made a face at her reflection in the mirror. "Good and bad, I suppose. On the one hand, you know how I feel about these society parasites. But on the other hand, Bruce was there, so at least there was one person whose company I actually enjoy. Unfortunately I made the mistake of telling him that, and, um, let's just say he misread my signals, I guess."

"He loves you." It wasn't a question.

"I'm afraid it's beginning to look that way. And I wish he didn't."

Maven shook her head, wondering, not for the first time, about her friend's lack of judgment. "Why? Selina, do you realise how many women would give anything to have a handsome billionaire who's crazy about her?"

Selina looked at her solemnly. "Yes, Maven, I know. But it's just not that simple. I really care about Bruce, and I don't want to hurt him like that Beaumont woman did," she said earnestly. "But I can't feel the way he seems to want me to, and if he tries to force me to, we'll both end up getting hurt. Again."

She disappeared behind her folding screen.

"Pity," Maven said softly. "I think you'd be good for each other."

"Maven!"

Selina re-emerged, costumed. Adjusting the mask, she told her secretary, "It's late. Stop matchmaking and go home. I'll see you in the morning."

Maven closed the French windows behind her, then sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to pet a couple of the sleeping cats. "You know what?" she asked them. "I think he's really getting under her skin. That's why she's gone running off to find Batman."

Bastet raised her tawny head and blinked at her sleepily, but the others paid no attention.

"Working alone tonight?"

He lowered his binoculars, turning to regard her. He'd had a feeling she would show up.

"Apparently not," he answered, but his tone was welcoming. "Why aren't you at your fund-raiser?"

She gestured toward the street below, the area known as Crime Alley. "You meet a better class of people here," she explained.

He picked up the binoculars, made another scan of the building across the street. There were rumours of a major drug deal coming down here, so he had to keep a close eye on the place. For the moment, however, he had time to talk to her and flirt a little bit.

"Wasn't there...anyone there you like?" he asked leadingly.

"Well," she teased. "There was one person. As a matter of fact I spent most of the evening with another man."

"Anyone I know?"

"Bruce Wayne."

Batman had his back to her, so she couldn't see him grin. "Has it ever occurred to you that you might be better off with him than you would with me?" he asked in an exaggeratedly casual voice.

"I know I would," laughed Catwoman. Then she turned serious and added, "But I'm afraid I'm going to have to stop seeing so much of him."

He was filled with dismay as she repeated an edited version of the same story she had told Maven, designed to pique his jealousy without revealing how much she really did care for Bruce.

"I'm just not sure I can deal with this pushy infatuation again, no matter how much I like him."

Batman said nothing, grateful for the unconscious warning.

She stared at his back, struck by a sudden parallel. Just as she had never been able to stand it when Bruce pushed her, the same thing happened in reverse with Batman, she realised. They flirted, and had a good time together, but whenever she pressed him, he gave her just a tiny bit of hope and then retreated.

Nothing had essentially changed; he still hadn't acted on the declaration of his feelings for her, and their relationship had gone back to pretty much the same way it had been during the first months they knew each other.

She had never been one for the afternoon talk shows and their discussions of fear of commitment, but somewhere deep inside she was beginning to wonder if he might not have been right a few months ago when he said the two of them were too independent for each other. She wondered if he would ever really be able to share himself with her or anyone else. And, deep down, she found herself wondering if she really even wanted him to.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SEPTEMBER

It was a Saturday afternoon in late September. Bruce was almost in the living room when the doorbell rang, so he answered it himself to save Alfred a trip.

He was glad he did. Selina stood on the threshold, and as he invited her in, saying what a pleasant surprise it was, he realised he had never seen her wear jeans and a sweater before. He had also never seen any woman manage to look so elegant in such simple attire. But he didn't mention it. Being careful about not pushing his feelings on her had paid off, and the two of them were still on exceptionally good terms.

"Hi. I'm sorry to barge in unannounced, but I could really use a friend right now."

"You've got one," he assured her.

"I had to talk to someone. I usually dump all my problems on Maven, but this time she's the problem."

Bruce raised his eyebrows, surprised. He didn't pretend to understand that particular relationship — Maven was a subordinate, but not a servant; a close friend and confidante, but not a buddy — but he was aware of the strong bond between the two women.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked with concern.

"She's getting married."

He looked bewildered. "That's a problem?"

Selina showed him a rueful grin. "Not in itself," she admitted. "The problem is her fiancé is thinking about moving out of state to find work. And if that happens, I'll lose not only the ideal secretary and companion, but also a very good friend."

Bruce nodded sympathetically. "That is a problem. What line of work is he in?"

"He was an engineer with Northstar Technologies until they went under."

"Bad business, that. I warned Guy North not to go with that management consulting firm in Illinois. Too much in-fighting. But if that's what the problem is, I think there may be an opening at Waynetech soon for a qualified engineer." 

Selina shook her head. "He wouldn't go for it. Tim is one of these proud types who won't accept any kind of favour."

"It could only be called a favour if I were offering him a guarantee of a job, and I'm not. It's just a chance, for your sake if nothing else."

"Thanks, Bruce."

He smiled. "Any time. Aside from that, what do you think of the guy?"

She considered. "Well, he's definitely not good enough for Maven, but he has his good points, I suppose. He likes her, and he likes cats."

Bruce laughed. "I'm sure in your book no one who likes cats can be all bad."

"That depends on how he likes them," she said darkly, and he wondered if she were thinking about the mad Dr. Dorian. 

Changing the subject, he suggested, "How about having some coffee in the den? I'd like to show you some plans I've been working on for the Wayne Charities Fund."

"Fine," she agreed.

When Alfred brought the coffee, he found the two of them with their heads together over a stack of papers. He smiled. Crimefighting and business. They're an ideal match, he thought. If only they don't manage to make a mess of it between the pair of them.

Strangely enough, within two weeks Bruce came very close to doing just that. One of the more significant women in his life appeared in Gotham, asking for his help. Good sense flew out the window, and he was off with her to Europe, where he found himself pondering his relationship with her. There were major problems: Alfred disapproved of her, Dick flat-out disliked her, and her primary loyalty was to her genocidal madman of a father. But Bruce had never doubted that she was genuinely in love with him, and he wondered if he was capable of returning her feelings. 

The answer was no. One midnight phone call to Selina settled the question once and for all, leaving his companion hurt and Bruce wondering why any two people couldn't seem to feel the same emotion at the same time.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

NOVEMBER

Thanksgiving at Wayne Manor was traditionally a rather somber affair in spite of the opulence. Most of the people Bruce liked enough to invite preferred to spend the holiday with their families, so it generally ended up being just Bruce, Dick, and Alfred, and sometimes Leslie Thompkins if she could tear herself away from her patients.

But this year was different. Selina had agreed to dine with them (it was a rather unexpected contrast to last Thanksgiving, when she had declined his invitation politely but firmly, at which point he had decided there was no hope of his ever having the sort of relationship he wanted with her), and at her suggestion he had also asked James and Barbara Gordon, and Sarah Essen Miller.

The dinner party had been fairly successful, if rather uncomfortable on occasion. Barbara seemed disturbed by her father's obviously growing feelings for Sarah, and wasn't quite her usual bubbly self. She was warming a bit toward her dad's girlfriend, but the idea of spending the holiday watching the two of them get cozy didn't exactly appeal to her, so the invitation to spend the day with good friends like Dick and Selina was like a godsend. Gordon, however, didn't quite agree. He had accepted the invitation only after considerable urging from his daughter, and he felt out of his depth socialising with this crowd.

And the deputy commissioner made everyone a bit nervous with her constant scrutiny of the host. Ten years ago, he had been her prime suspect when they were trying to establish Batman's identity, and in spite of evidence to the contrary she obviously hadn't completely given up her theory.

Alfred remarked on the fact later that night as Bruce got ready for his evening rounds.

"Deputy Commissioner Miller seems rather determined to cling to her theory about your identity, doesn't she, sir? With all due respect to Commissioner Gordon, the lady does appear to be rather more...." He hesitated tactfully.

"More intelligent than he is, Alfred? Yes, I'm afraid you're right. Actually, I overheard a conversation tonight about Sarah's intelligence."

Alfred raised his eyebrows. "Eavesdropping, Master Bruce?" 

One corner of Batman's mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Not deliberately. I was in the library getting a book Leslie wanted to borrow when Selina and Barbara came in. She was upset about finding her father kissing Sarah, so I didn't want to embarrass her by announcing my presence."

"Oh, dear. Trapped like a character in one of those dreadful television soap operas?"

"Something like that. Anyway, Selina told her not to make an enemy of Sarah. Her exact words were, 'She's very smart, little one, and she could nail you without any problem.' Doesn't that seem curious to you, Alfred?"

Alfred sniffed. "The entire friendship between those two strikes me as a bit curious, sir, but I agree the remark was rather cryptic."

"Yes. But I think I have an explanation for both. Something Selina said struck a chord, but I couldn't pin it down at first. Then I remembered what it was: 'little one' is Catwoman's nickname for Batgirl. And Barbara isn't exactly what you would call petite."

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Alfred. "Surely you aren't suggesting...?"

Batman nodded. "I should have figured it out earlier. It makes perfect sense, Alfred. The first time Batgirl put in an appearance was when Commissioner Gordon was in trouble. Catwoman started training Batgirl several months ago — just about the same time Selina and Barbara became friends."

He entered a few commands on the computer keyboard. News clippings and photos of Batgirl began to scrawl across the giant screen. Punching another sequence of keys, Batman created a split-screen effect, featuring a close-up of the young crimefighter on the right side, and a newspaper photo of Barbara Gordon next to her father on the left.

"Their physical descriptions are a perfect match," he pointed out. "And Barbara Gordon is a champion gymnast. I'm surprised I didn't think of it before. But who would believe a devoted father — and a professional detective at that — would fail to recognize his only child even if she were wearing a disguise?"

"It does rather tax the imagination," agreed Alfred.

"I'll have to get recordings of both Batgirl and Barbara so I can do a voice-pattern analysis. Then we'll know for sure."

Alfred smiled as a new thought struck him. "Master Dick should find this information rather intriguing, if I'm not mistaken. He seems rather taken with both the young ladies. Almost a parallel, if you'll pardon my mentioning it, sir."

His employer shot him a sour look. "No. I don't want Dick to know about this, Alfred. I've noticed his attraction to Batgirl, but that's all it is, so there's no point in adding any unnecessary complications at this point. He's too young for that burden."

It was the closest he had come to referring to his own romantic complications in some time, and something in his voice persuaded Alfred not to press the issue.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

DECEMBER

"Nice wedding."

"I guess," said Selina, as she switched on the light.

Bruce followed her into the apartment, loosening his tie. "You know, I never realised that Maven was so...attractive. They say all brides are beautiful, but believe me, I've been to enough society weddings to know that's not true."

Selina laughed tiredly. "Well, Maven can be quite pretty when she wants to be, but she's not comfortable being the glamour girl type. She'd rather people like her for who she is. She doesn't have to pretend like the rest of us." She handed him a drink, then poured one for herself.

Isis hopped into Bruce's lap and settled herself with a loud purr. He laughed, stroking the soft, steel-grey fur.

Selina smiled. "Isis doesn't usually like men very well, but she's always seemed to like you for some reason. The only other man I've ever known her take to like that is Batman."

"Really," Bruce said innocently. As he looked down into the yellow-green eyes, he reflected that it was a good thing for him the cat couldn't talk, Selina's claims to the contrary notwithstanding. He knew quite well why Isis liked him. She knew his secret.

"Yes. Some cats — Ramses! What have you got?" She started after the larger of her two beige cats, kicking off her high heels as she went. Retrieving a small, flat package from the cat's jaws, she crossed to the couch and dropped down lightly next to Bruce. "Would you believe it? He's taken to stealing my mail lately!"

He watched her carefully split open the tape on the outer wrappings with a fingernail. "What's that?" he asked.

"I don't know. Early Christmas present? There's no return address. Oh, no!"

The wrappings fell away to reveal a neatly-wrapped inner package decorated with familiar red and black diamond shapes. Selina ripped off the paper and held up the book by one corner, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"_'101 Uses for a Dead Cat_'! Isn't that charming? I really hate that woman."

"Who?" asked Bruce, although he knew perfectly well.

"Harley Quinn! Best known as the Joker's girlfriend, but she's quite a little sociopath in her own right. She and I have had a running feud going for some time now, so this isn't exactly an isolated incident. Well, I know what to do with this." She ripped the pages out of the book and hurled them into the fireplace. Tossing a match on top, she growled, "I only wish I could do the same to her."

Bruce cleared his throat. Figuring it might be a good time to change the subject, he said in a cheerful tone, "I understand there's going to be another wedding soon. Jim Gordon's planning to marry Sarah on Valentine's Day. How's Barbara taking the news?"

Selina shrugged. "About the way you might expect. She's ambiguous. She's not wild about the thought of living with Sarah, but she's overjoyed to see her father so happy."

"Sounds a little like your reaction to Maven and Tim," he observed shrewdly. 

She nodded shortly, obviously not wanting to discuss it. "Maybe. You know, Sarah's even getting to keep her job after they get married. There's supposed to be a rule about no fraternization, but the mayor made a special exception or something in this case. I don't really know the details. Well, it's nice to know things work out right for some people, anyway."

Bruce watched her pace the room, worried by the tired, defeated tone he heard in her voice. When she stopped to freshen her drink, he put the cat down and went to her. He stood behind her, massaging her shoulders gently. "Selina," he said quietly. "Don't give up on the idea of your own happy ending. I haven't, in spite of everything." 

"I didn't think you believed in happy endings...or happy anything, for that matter." She wondered how he could manage to be so enthusiastic over Gordon's engagement. The whole situation was like a dramatic illustration of what could have happened for him, but hadn't.

He shrugged. "Well, the _idea's_ appealing. That's why, um.... Look, there's something I've been needing to ask you for a long time."

Wonderful, she thought. He'd been thinking about her, not his old girlfriend. An absolutely perfect ending to a lovely day. "If you have to," she sighed.

"If circumstances had been different when we met — for instance, if you hadn't fallen for Batman, and if I hadn't made such a nuisance of myself, well..." he faltered. He knew he was doing it again, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He had to know. "Is there even a possibility that you might have been able to love me?"

Selina hesitated, not sure how to answer. Finally she decided to be honest with him. "Yes," she answered softly, hoping he wouldn't misinterpret her words. "Very easily, I'm afraid."

Her tone of voice, discouraging to say the least, took some of the edge off his elation, so he was able to ask in a restrained voice, "Why are you sorry about that?"

"Because circumstances _aren't_ different, Bruce," she told him sadly. "And they're not likely to be different, so we might as well stop thinking about 'what ifs'." 

"I see," he said flatly, disgusted with himself for persisting in spite of the obvious NO TRESPASSING signs. "I'm sorry I even brought it up. Bad timing. I should have known it's been a stressful day for you and it's not a good time to clear the air. I'll go."

Selina nodded. "That's probably a good idea. Bruce, wait—" she added, touching his sleeve. He turned to look at her, wishing the concern he saw in her eyes was something more. "No hard feelings, okay? It's not you, it's me. Look, why don't you come over for dinner some night next week, and we won't talk about it."

"Sure," he agreed, with a pretense at geniality. "Well, uh, if you'll excuse me, I have to go kick myself now."

She laughed with him, glad her friend didn't seem too much the worse for wear. Locking the door behind him, she turned to find Isis regarding her with the silent stare cats use to inspire paranoia and self-consciousness in humans. It worked.

"Don't give me that look," Selina told her. "You're as bad as Maven. I am not lying to myself. I hope."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dinner the next week was not exactly a complete success, either. Selina was nervous and touchy, and Bruce was finding it harder and harder to play by the rules. He was becoming obsessed with her.

Naturally enough, Selina didn't care much for the idea of being an obsession. She was starting to get the closed-in, panicky feeling that had gripped her the day she ended things between them so many months ago. She found herself constantly fighting the urge to do the same thing now, stayed only by the unwelcome knowledge that if his loss was painful then, it would be unbearable now.

She needed time away from him, time to sort out her thoughts and feelings. So she cancelled all her business appointments through the first of the year, packed up Isis and headed home for Christmas, hoping to get lost for awhile in the noise and confusion of a large extended family.

The Kyles had moved to Chicago when Selina was fourteen. It was a world away from the wildlife preserve her father had headed for more than twenty years, but she had adapted extremely well, eventually turning from a wild tomboy to a polished, city-wise lady.

She loved her hometown, but it wasn't quite big enough for her needs, and she couldn't stand being close to that much family all the time. Gotham was a much better choice, bigger, surrounded by wild areas, and uniquely suited to her eccentricities. Nevertheless, it always felt good to come back.

The new sign was the first thing she noticed. _The pet shop must be doing well, _she thought. Hardly surprising. Selina was an incredible businesswoman, and she had inherited the talent from her mother. But she'd always hated the name her parents had given the shop: _Kyle's Critters._ It absolutely reeked of appalling cuteness.

She looked around the business with approval as she opened the door. Large, floor-to-ceiling, multi-level cages for the kittens, allowing them to play together, and shorter, wider cages that let the puppies at least have a small place to run. The main difference, though, between this and other pet shops was the policy toward prospective buyers. Selina grinned as she saw her mother engaged even now in giving a couple and their young son her "test", determining if they were suitable prospects for that Christmas puppy, or if they would be sent on their way to look elsewhere. The fact the store made any money at all was testament to her mother's business skills.

Fifteen minutes later, having proven themselves, the family walked out with a new beagle. "Congratulations. She's a tough cookie," Selina told them as they left.

"It takes one to know one!" her mother called from behind the counter, putting away the last of the paperwork. Selina smiled as she watched her work. Carolyn Kyle, known to most people as C.K. or simply Kay, was a tall, energetic blonde in her late fifties. She was very attractive, even if she wasn't as stunning as her daughters. Then again, there's no way the elegant Selina or prim and proper Magdalene could have gotten away with wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with a picture of the Titanic hitting the iceberg, emblazoned with the words, "Ship Happens." 

She came around the divider to give her daughter a quick hug. Then she stepped back and touched Selina's face, shaking her head in disapproval. "Mm mmm," she murmured. "You look terrible. What have you been doing to yourself this time?"

Selina stepped out of her reach. "Thank you for the compliment, Mama! But I'm fine, really," she told her with a sigh.

"You don't look fine," Kay told her sternly. "I worry about you in that city full of lunatics."

"Don't worry; I'm one of the lunatics now," Selina said lightly. risking another one of her mother's _If you'd never moved to Gotham you never would have gotten into all that trouble _speeches.

But all she said this time was, "Don't remind me." Unfortunately she had to add, "So, when am I going to meet this young man Maggie told me about? He sounds very nice."

Selina winced visibly. There was one topic of conversation she hated worse than the anti-Gotham argument, and that was the _You should get married and have a family _speech she'd been hearing constantly for the last ten years. "Do you need any help cleaning out the cages before you close up?" she asked impatiently, hoping her attempt to change the subject would work this time.

"Oh, so _that's _how it is, hmm?" her mother said quietly.

By Christmas night, Selina was coming to the conclusion that, given a choice between most of her family and the "freaks and weirdos" in Gotham City, she'd take the crazies any day. She and her mother, brother and sister had finally managed to escape (as she viewed it) from the horde of aunts, uncles, and cousins, most of whom Selina didn't like, and a large number she didn't even remember.

_People!_ she thought. _Give me cats any time._ _They make more sense._

She was irritable and moody, and all the Christmas cheer wasn't helping. Several times during the party, she had walked into a group of people who either stopped talking when she joined them, or changed the subject abruptly. Her brother informed her she was paranoid, and they had gotten into another of their battles on the ride back to their mother's apartment. Now they sat as far apart as they could manage, pointedly ignoring each other.

"I don't think you're paranoid," Maggie said soothingly. "But you could be making too much out of this. I don't think anyone has any reason to say something bad about you."

"I don't care if it's bad or good, but I want it said to my face. Is that too much to ask? The idiot socialites in Gotham have better manners."

"They were probably stunned by your new brooch and didn't know how to bring it up," her mother told her. "We don't often see something that..._expensive_. Your friend must really think a lot of you to give you something like that."

When Selina had decided to make the trip, Bruce had offered her the use of his plane, calling it his Christmas present to her. She accepted it on those terms, but when she boarded she had found another gift waiting for her: an antique cat brooch, art deco in style, made of 18-karat gold with emerald eyes and a ruby collar. It was spectacular and she loved it, but she couldn't help feeling annoyed with Bruce for putting her in the uncomfortable position of arousing speculation when she wore it.

"The expense is nothing to Bruce. He probably spends more money than that on duty gifts to people he doesn't like."

Maggie smiled at her protests. "Maybe so, but they're probably not as carefully chosen as this one," she pointed out.

Selina snorted. "I'm called Catwoman, I have eight cats, and my work deals with animal rights. How tough is it to figure out that a cat brooch is probably a good choice? For all I know Alfred could have picked it out," she objected, although she knew it wasn't true. "And it's no one's business how much it cost or where I got it."

Her brother M.J. looked over at her and grinned, lighting a cigarette. He was ordinarily a pretty nice person, but the temptation to needle his younger sister was just too much for him to resist. The two of them had never gotten along, and now every time their paths crossed there was guaranteed to be trouble. They brought out the very worst in each other. 

"They were probably just wondering where you stole it," he laughed.

Selina exploded. "That's it! I've had just about enough of you for one night. Actually, I've had _more_ than enough of you for an entire _lifetime. _You're rude, obnoxious — "

"No more so than you," he shrugged.

Maggie sighed and exchanged a weary glance with her mother as they started off on another round, going through everything from Selina's motives for coming here to an attack on M.J.'s smoking in front of her cat. 

When the telephone rang threw up her hands in an expansive gesture and exclaimed, "Saved by the bell!" She answered, then had to call Selina twice before she could get her attention away from the fight. "It's your friend Bruce. You can use the extension if you want privacy." 

"Good idea," said Selina, giving her brother one last venomous look as she disappeared into the bedroom. But her voice sounded lighter, and her eyes had a definite sparkle that probably wasn't due to anger this time.

turned to her other children with a grin. "They're just friends, you know," she deadpanned. Maggie giggled.

When she got off the phone, at least thirty minutes later, her mood had improved drastically. She said "good riddance" when she learned M.J. had gone home, but there was no acid left in her tone.

"You and Bruce must have a lot in common to talk so long," Maggie said leadingly.

"Just exchanging good wishes, catching up on the latest gossip. You know."

"No, but we can guess," teased Maggie. "He had a wonderful time, but it just wasn't right without you there to share it. Hmm?"

Selina scowled at her. "Stop matchmaking. That's Maven's job."

"I know, but the poor girl's overworked. I just thought I'd help out while she's on her honeymoon."

"Well, you can help out a lot if you stop talking about Bruce Wayne all the time. I came here to get _away_ from him. Can't you understand that?"

Her mother nodded and put a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I understand," she said. Then she added playfully, "Oh, _boy,_ do I understand!"

"Hi, Dad. Sorry about the flowers — they were Aunt Marie's centerpiece. First thing I've stolen in years. What a comedown, huh?"

She laid the flowers on the grave and looked around the dark cemetery, feeling slightly foolish. Selina had never been one for talking to dead people, but Bruce kept insisting it made him feel better, so why not? It wasn't like she expected an answer or anything — _those _people bugged her. Besides, this wasn't all that different from talking to her father when he was alive. He had never teased or nagged like her mother, just let her talk until she got things worked out for herself.

So, she leaned against the headstone and began to talk out loud to her father, though she was really talking to herself. "I had to get out of there. They're driving me crazy! I should have known better than to come here. Spending the holidays all by myself would have been a lot better than facing the Spanish Inquisition. I can handle solitude. I do solitude very well. I don't need anybody!"

She laughed, with a trace of bitterness. "Yeah, that was defensive. Oh, well, after being around those two matchmakers, I have a right to be defensive. If I get involved with anyone, it should be my choice, nobody else's. Though with my track record it should be "just say no" to romance. Let's see, there was that fiasco in college — still suffering third degree burns from that one — and then there's Batman. Oh, yes, the great Dark Knight. Sexy, exciting, mysterious, and tauntingly unavailable. We had fun — at least _I_ did — until it all just fizzled out. I guess maybe it really was the thrill of the chase after all. As soon as he started to let me catch him, I stopped trying to."

Selina sat quietly for a few minutes, reflecting on the way her relationship with Batman had deteriorated over the last few months. It had all looked so hopeful for awhile, like they really could find a place for each other without the masks. She wasn't sure what happened, or why, but they had both suddenly given up and gone their separate ways. Since then, neither of them had shown any interest in renewing their association. She couldn't know that he was now putting all his efforts into wooing her as Bruce Wayne, and the _last_ thing she could do was admit to herself that maybe her best friend was starting to become more to her than just a friend.

She smiled to herself as she thought of Bruce, then immediately wiped the expression off her face. There was no one here to see it, but she was feeling paranoid after all the teasing she had endured from her family. 

"No happy ending in sight, I'm afraid. I'm stuck with a love affair that's turned into a friendship, and a friendship that everyone in the _world_ keeps trying to turn into a love affair. I don't even know _how _to be in love. I don't have the knack you and Mama had." Her parents had had an absurdly perfect marriage, beginning when they were teenagers.

Unfortunately, none of their children had been able to find that for themselves, and Selina for one refused to believe it existed. They had been best friends, lovers, and co-workers, and even their fights had been a source of great pleasure to both of them. How could she hope to find that in one person? She enjoyed fighting with Batman, playing mind games with him, but real intimacy was out of the question. And with Bruce she had the companionship and trust, but she always backed away from a battle, not trusting their friendship to something as unpredictable as her temper.

"This isn't working, is it, Dad? I hate this. I don't know which way to go, and I'm not going to let anyone push me. I wish you were here to give me advice...not that I'd take it, of course. You'd take one look at Bruce and the way he looks at me and tell me to grab him. Well, what if I don't want him?" A panicked expression came over her face as she let herself finally think the unthinkable. "Or worse yet, what if I _do?_"

*****

The holiday traveling season was over by the second week in January, but even so the Gotham airport was crowded. 

She saw him before he saw her, and although she'd had a feeling he would meet her flight, she wasn't prepared for the effect that seeing him would have on her. Her heart started racing, and she felt herself begin to tingle all over. _I've_ missed _him!_ she realised. She made one half-hearted attempt to tell herself that she'd also missed Maven, and Barbara, but the instant Bruce turned and smiled at her she realised it wouldn't wash. They might be good friends, but they didn't make her heart beat 100 miles an hour.

"You didn't have to come," Selina told him.

"Oh, I needed to speak to my pilot anyway," replied Bruce, trying to sound offhanded.

"Did you really?"

"No." He reached for her hand and then drew back, unsure of her reaction. "I hoped I could persuade you to let me take you to dinner. If you're not too tired, that is."

Selina started to say something, then changed her mind and lifted the cat carrier. "I have to take Isis home," she said apologetically. "And see the rest of the cats, of course. I'm sure Barbara took good care of them for me, but you know how it is with pets."

Bruce nodded slowly. "I understand." He'd never had a pet, but he got the point. She'd left town to get away from him and she still didn't want to see him.

"We could order in...if you want," she offered suddenly. 

They barely spoke on the ride home, both lost in their own thoughts. _I'm tired of running away,_ thought Selina. _It's never been my style. I'm stronger than this._ She looked over at him, realising suddenly that she wasn't panicking. It felt _good_ to be with him.

The feeling of elation stayed with her for the rest of the evening, even when Bruce left unexpectedly, making some excuse about business and having forgotten something very important.

She wandered around the room for awhile, thinking about how drastically things had changed for both of them in the last year, wondering if she really had the courage to go forward in spite of the risks, and thinking for the first time that maybe she did. Absently, she picked up a fortune cookie from the remains of their Chinese take-out and broke it open. She read it twice and burst out laughing, attracting curious stares from all the cats.

__

"An unpleasant situation will resolve itself, with unexpected rewards."

Selina whirled around the room, laughing at the delicious irony of the message. She had another good laugh when she glanced out the window, catching sight of the Bat signal just before it went out. "Well, at least that's one thing that's resolved itself," she told the cats. They just continued to stare at her.


	5. 19-22

19-21

CHAPTER NINETEEN

FEBRUARY, 1995

Selina's trip had the result of making her face a few things she'd been denying for a long time, and finally took away some of the strain that had existed between her and Bruce since their confrontation the night of Maven's wedding. 

Unfortunately, when the ill feelings disappeared it was only to be replaced by a different kind of tension. Their growing awareness of this attraction made both of them, but particularly Selina, nervous and even moodier than usual. She was living up to her promise to be her usual resolute and capable self, and she was willing to admit to herself that the status quo was definitely changing. Nevertheless, she couldn't forget what she had said at her father's graveside: "I don't know_ how _to be in love!"

But by Bruce's birthday in the middle of February, she was starting to believe that she might be capable of learning .

Dinner that night was particularly successful. Bruce and Selina were both in top form; their conversation was punctuated with sparkling witticisms and the kind of very mutual flirting that had always been strictly taboo. 

Afterwards, they braved the cold and took a walk by the river. The darkness and the weather worked a change on their good mood, and they walked for a long time in companionable silence. Finally Bruce stopped and leaned over the railings, looking into the dark, rushing water below.

"Lose something?" Selina asked.

He had a sudden strong urge to say something nauseatingly sentimental, like "Yes — my heart!" but he managed to stop himself just in time. Grinning over this idiotic impulse, he said, "My mind, possibly."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. By the way, I forgot to tell you I have to go out of the country for a couple of weeks. Meetings in London."

"Oh. Well, I'll miss you."

Bruce was astonished. "You will?"

"Of course," she tried to say lightly, but it didn't come out quite that way.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Bruce put his hands on Selina's shoulders, expecting her to pull away. When she didn't, he decided if ever there were an appropriate time to break his promise about not pushing, this was it. He leaned forward to kiss her, and she responded willingly.

"I hope you don't think that was a mistake," he said when they parted.

She shook her head. "No. It didn't feel like a mistake to me."

"Me neither. Actually, it was one of the nicest birthday presents I've ever gotten."

"Well, you know what they say. What can you give the man who has everything?" joked Selina. They both laughed.

Then Bruce turned serious. "Not quite everything," he told her soberly.

Before he take the thought any further, Selina reached up and pressed one finger against his lips. "I'll see you when you get back from London," she whispered.

She turned to go, leaving him staring after her with a dazed expression on his face.

Selina was a little dazed herself when she got home.

Opening the door, she found herself face to face with her secretary, who was also reaching for the knob. Maven stepped back, startled. "Oops! I just came back for these papers that have to go out first thing in the morning," she explained, indicating the file under one arm.

"Oh. Right. Good thinking, Maven."

Maven looked at her employer with concern. "You seem distracted. Is everything all right?"

Selina's green eyes sparkled. "Better than all right. Everything is wonderful."

"Oh...good. I take it things are better between you and Bruce, then?"

"Incredible! Oh, Maven, I think I'm in love with him."

Maven clapped her hands delightedly, dropping the folder in the process. Papers spilled everywhere.

"Oh! Selina, I'm so happy! I've always said you were perfect for each other."

Selina laughed. "I know, but I was too stubborn to listen. Too infatuated with the dark side to pay any attention to what a wonderful guy Bruce really is."

Behind her glasses, Maven's dark eyes showed sudden concern. Hesitantly, she said, "Speaking of the dark side, what about...him?"

Shaking her head as she flopped down on the rather uncomfortable blue sofa, Selina sighed, "I don't know. Maybe it was doomed from the start. All I can tell you is whatever we had together is gone. That's if we ever had anything to begin with, which I'm not too sure about, either."

"But I thought you loved him."

"So did I. Maybe we were both wrong. No, I _do_ love Batman, very much, but it's not the same. We save each other from the local psychopaths, flirt a little bit and then go our separate ways. What future is there in that?"

"I don't know."

"Neither do I. Funny, I thought things were going so well after last summer, but then we hit another dead end. And this time we didn't even _try_ to get over it. Who knows, maybe I finally realised that he'll never let me into his life. His work is always going to come first with him; I can't compete. He'll share the work with me, but not what drives him.

"Not like Bruce," she continued, smiling fondly. "He's moody, and he can be secretive, too, but no more than I am. But he's also kind and generous and...and _loving_. And he's willing to share himself with me when I'll let him."

Maven smiled, glad to see her old friend was finally beginning to realise what she had known for a long time. She was an incurable romantic, and she wanted to see Selina find someone who would make her happy. At first it hadn't mattered which of the two would win, but after the way Batman had behaved — breaking up with Catwoman and then changing his mind, and worse, not believing in her when she needed his support — she was now firmly on Bruce's side.

"And now you're willing to let him?" she asked hopefully.

"Getting there. Maven, do you think it's possible to be in love with two people at the same time?"

Maven considered the question for a moment. "I think it's _very _possible to love one person and still cling to the memory of someone else. And it's certainly possible to love different things about different people."

Selina smiled. "You may be right. That reminds me, did I ever tell you about this weird theory that Sarah Miller — excuse me, Sarah _Gordon_ — has? According to Barbara, she decided a long time ago that Batman is really Bruce Wayne, and apparently she still believes it."

Her secretary's eyes widened. "How bizarre! It'd be awfully convenient for you if it were true, though."

"Wouldn't it?" Selina laughed. "I wish it _were_ true! That would solve everything. My ideal man would be a cross between the two of them." She smiled, considering the possibilities. Then she shrugged. "Oh, well. Wishful thinking. I suppose I'll have to content myself with the fact that they kiss alike!"

"At least the choice is made now," Maven said quietly.

Selina nodded. "Yeah. Only...it's not the choice I expected to make. But I have a feeling it's the right one. Maybe it's a good thing Bruce has to be out of the country for awhile. Time away from both of them is probably exactly what I need right now."

CHAPTER TWENTY

APRIL

It was a perfect night to prowl. Chilly but not too cold, no wind to speak of, and a nice, bright full moon.

Catwoman scaled the side of the Wayne Enterprises building, using her claws to grab the rough brick. As she passed the 16th floor, something dangled in front of her face. She examined the object curiously, holding it in one hand while she clutched the building with the other.

It was a wedge of black metal, with scallops cut out of the underside in imitation of a bat's wing. Attached to it was a thin black cable. She raised her head, following the line upward to the edge of the roof, but saw nothing. Balancing herself, she yanked on the cable to test it. It held. With a shrug, she shifted her weight and used the batline to pull herself hand-over-hand up the rest of the building, like a mountain climber.

When she reached the top, she dragged herself over the edge and flexed her hands to retract the claws. She knelt for a moment to disengage the sleeping cat from her shoulder. Then she stood and faced the man who held the other end of the batline.

"Thanks for the lift," she told him.

"Any time."

They stood regarding each other in silence. Finally Catwoman spoke.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it, Dark Knight?"

Batman nodded. "We haven't exactly drifted any closer the past few months, have we? Especially since you've been seeing someone else."

"Jealous?"

Ignoring her taunt, he merely asked, "Which one of us did you come to see?"

She looked at him for a moment before she answered. Then she pointed downwards, toward Bruce Wayne's penthouse office. "Him."

Batman smiled grimly. "I see. So you've made up your mind, then?"

"So it would seem," she answered coolly. 

In reality, she was far from being as calm as her manner suggested. Her heart was racing; she hoped he couldn't hear it. Despite the depth of her feelings for Bruce, and the intimacy between them since he had returned from England, she still felt a strong, lingering attraction for Batman that caught her off guard.

"In that case, there's something I need you to do for me."

"What's that?"

"Take off your mask."

Catwoman blinked in surprise. "My mask? Why? You know what I look like."

He took a deep breath. "Take off your mask, and I'll take off mine."

Her reaction was anything but what he expected. She began to laugh. "'You show me yours and I'll show you mine'? I haven't played that since I was five, Batman!" she giggled, not believing him. Nevertheless, she took off the mask. "Now. Satisfied?"

"I'm serious," he told her sternly.

"I've never seen you any other way," she pointed out.

Ignoring her, he went on, "I can't play this game any more, Selina. I just can't do it. I'm tired of being two-thirds of a love triangle."

She looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "What in the world are you talking about?" she questioned.

Wordlessly, he reached up and removed the cowl.

She took a couple of involuntary steps backwards, almost treading on Isis, who sat looking from one to the other as if wondering what the big surprise was.

"Bruce...? But _why_...? Why'd you lie to me all this time?" Selina asked in a small, hurt voice. She fumbled with her mask.

Misreading the gesture of re-masking, Bruce started toward her and tried to take her in his arms, wanting to comfort her. Her anger took over and she backed away hissing, all cat now. Stupidly, he followed.

Deliberately, Catwoman unsheathed her claws and raked them across Batman's left forearm, leaving a row of very deep, painful scratches.

"Hey!" he objected, surprised.

She started to leave, then hesitated for a second. "I don't know whether to throw myself into your arms or throw you off this building!" she said. "And until I decide, I suggest you leave me alone."

"Selina, I wish — " he started to say.

Her conversation with Maven popped into her mind. "Be careful what you wish for, Batman. You just might get it!" she told him with a bitter laugh.

She jumped down onto the next rooftop, forgetting Isis. As Bruce cradled the confused cat, the silent whistle vaulted her out of his hands, scratching his wounded arm in the process.

Alfred met his employer at the door, reaching out to take his overcoat. Bruce grimaced as he pulled off the left sleeve.

"Miss Selina called earlier looking for you, Master Bruce," announced Alfred. "I told her you were working late at the office. Did she get in touch with you?"

"I would say so, Alfred." Gingerly, he took off his yellow dress shirt, revealing the bandages wrapped around the tattered sleeve of the bat costume. Blood was seeping through in places.

Alfred drew in his breath. "A little cat-fight, sir?" he inquired.

Bruce showed him a grim smile. "More like a game of truth-and-consequences. I told her the truth — "

" — and took the consequences. Yes, so I see. Still it should be a relief to have everything out in the open now, sir."

"I hope so, Alfred. I hope so." He smiled. "It's been almost a year and a half since Andrea left. It's time to get on with my life. And I want — I _need_ — Selina to be part of that life."

The butler smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure she will, Master Bruce."

Bruce wasn't too sure the next morning when he tried calling her. "Selina, it's me," he began.

"Which one of you?" she inquired nastily, and slammed the phone down in his ear.

Sighing, he hung up the receiver and decided he'd better do as she wanted and leave her alone until she'd had a chance to cool off.

Four days later, he was working late again, this time with Waynetech's second-in-command, Lucius Fox.

"Have you seen the Stone file anywhere?" Lucius asked him.

Bruce thought a minute. "Hmmm. You might try looking in Dana's office, but I wouldn't know where to tell you to start. I have yet to figure out her filing system."

A few minutes later, over the sounds of Lucius rummaging through files in the outer office, he heard another noise. A light tapping. He swiveled his chair around toward the big window behind his desk.

"What the...!" he exclaimed, jumping up and throwing open the window. Catwoman stepped lightly into the room. She stared at Bruce for a minute, realising what a psychological advantage it was to be the only one in costume. Then she grabbed him, kissing him hard and thoroughly.

"Selina," he whispered.

The smile on his face suddenly disappeared, to be replaced by a grimace of shock and pain as she put a strong grip on his wounded arm.

Still without saying a word, she turned and leaped out the window.

Bruce Wayne collapsed into his chair, shaking his head in disbelief. A small cough made him look to the doorway, where Lucius stood staring at him unbelievingly, holding the Stone file in his hands.

"What...was that all about?" he stammered. "I thought you said you and Miss Kyle were just friends."

"Things have, uh, changed between us lately," Bruce answered slowly.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

He gave her — and himself — another 24 hours before facing her again.

She let him in through the terrace door of her apartment, closing the drapes carefully behind him. She stood looking at him expectantly, so he reached up and removed his mask.

"Better? I take it from that little performance last night you've made up your mind what to do?"

In answer, Selina threw herself into his arms and he kissed her tenderly. When the kiss ended, they stood holding each other, smiling.

"Just don't stand too close to the balcony," she cautioned him. Her tone was humorous, but there was a slight undertone that should have warned him she wasn't entirely kidding.

But he missed it, preoccupied with other things, like how good — how _right_ — it felt to hold her and have her know who was embracing her.

"You're everything I ever wanted," he told her. "I don't know how I could have made it through the last year if you hadn't been there. First as a friend, and then to show me — " He broke off suddenly. There was so much he had to tell her, and he didn't want to get bogged down in cliches.

"I know. Your friendship got me through some rough times, too. Of course, I didn't know how much of it was because of your guilty conscience," she said pointedly, and he winced. Then she went on, more gently, "But...no matter how it started out, I ended up falling in love with my friend, which definitely wasn't part of the plan. Not my plan, anyway."

"It came as a pleasant surprise to me, too," Bruce said lightly.

Selina ignored the interruption, trying to figure out how to phrase the question that had been bothering her ever since that night on the roof. "If I hadn't...if I'd made the 'wrong' choice in your book and kept on obsessing about Batman, would you have ever told me?"

He was silent for a moment. "I don't know," he told her finally. "That's what Leslie asked me, months ago: why not just tell you and get it over with?"

"Sounds like a pretty reasonable question to me," Selina pointed out archly.

Bruce nodded. "On the surface, yes," he agreed. "And I did think about it, more than once. But I just didn't think I could live without knowing if you cared because of who I really was, or because you were just still in love with the legend."

She raised one eyebrow. For the so-called World's Greatest Detective, he could be incredibly stupid sometimes.

"Good an excuse as any, I suppose," she shrugged.

Ouch, thought Bruce.

"What's the use in speculating?" he asked. "All that really matters is that we're here — together — like we belong. You know we're meant for each other."

Selina nodded, and stepped forward to embrace him again. She laid her head on his chest, and as he held her tightly, she said musingly, "Batman and Catwoman...Bruce and Selina...the four of us have always made quite a couple, haven't we?"

"Let's get married," he whispered.

"No!" Selina pulled free of him, glaring. "Why do you always have to push everything? God, Bruce, sometimes you act like nothing more than a spoiled rich brat who assumes anything and anyone you want is yours for the asking. I've always hated that. You may be used to getting what you want, but I don't intend to be another one of your conquests!"

Bruce stared at her, shocked. "I've _never_ seen you as a conquest, Selina," he assured her hoarsely. "I love you. I always have. And I just want to have a life with you, that's all."

She sighed and touched his face. "Bruce," she began gently, "I'd like that, too. You know I love you. But don't you understand? That was some shock you gave me, and I'm still angry. And hurt. So right now, it might be best if we just took things slowly, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed sadly. "Maybe you're right. At least we know where we stand now."

"Yes. By the way," she told him, changing the subject, "I told Maven about all this, but I haven't told anyone else. And I know she won't, not even her husband." Especially not her husband. Tim had been furious the night Selina called their apartment in tears, waking them up and asking Maven to come over and hold her hand, figuratively speaking.

"I don't mind Maven knowing, but I'd rather you not tell Barbara for the moment. She's improved a lot, thanks to your training, but she's still not quite ready for full membership in the club yet. But I trust you to keep my secret as well as you've kept hers."

Selina grinned. "I might've known you'd figure it out eventually. But seriously, don't you think she and Robin — I assume that's Dick in that role? — should have the chance to start out with a little more honesty than we did?"

"Maybe. But not just yet. Besides, we've got other things to discuss right now. Like the fact that even with everything out in the open, this still isn't going to be easy."

She shook her head. "I know. With our personalities it couldn't be, could it?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

JULY

The decision about telling Robin and Batgirl was taken out of their hands late that summer. The two younger crime fighters found themselves caught up in an adventure all their own, during which they discovered each other's identities. They were surprised and rather pleased at the revelation, but angry at their senior partners for keeping the truth from them.

As for the senior partners themselves, they had taken things slowly, as agreed, but both were very pleased with the way their new relationship was working out. Batman and Catwoman continued to work together, although they were very careful to behave like friends and nothing more. On the other hand, Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle made no secret of their feelings for each other.

Of course, there were a few problems, and not just because of their difficult personalities. The gossip columnists had been a pain, delighted with the story of a wealthy businessman who fell in love with a beautiful criminal turned crimefighter. Selina had naturally heard a few nasty remarks about gold-diggers, while Bruce had taken some kidding (mixed with not inconsiderable envy) from his society friends about his taste in "exotic cats". But they ignored the gossip and concentrated on each other, both happier than they'd been in a long, long time.

And on the hottest, stormiest night of the year, they became lovers.

Selina managed to sleep through the thunder and lightning, but she was awakened by Lucky, her elderly white Persian (who had been terrified of thunderstorms his whole life, and was getting worse) trying to bury himself under her pillow.

"It's just a plain, old-fashioned thunderstorm, baby. I promise," she told him sleepily. "Nothing to worry about."

As she stroked the cat reassuringly, she heard something tap on the French windows. Hail? she wondered, getting out of bed to look. As she brushed the curtain aside, she saw the silhouette of a bat illumined in a flash of lightning. 

Hurriedly, she opened the window for him. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you," he answered, in an even huskier voice than usual.

Selina knew what he meant. "I see," she said softly.

She took off his cape and cowl and hung them up to dry on one of the ugly, horn-like projections that served as bedposts. Then she escorted several astonished cats out of the bedroom, shutting the sliding door that was almost never closed. "I figured you'd rather they stay outside," she explained.

He nodded. "Thanks." He held out his arms to her and she went into them willingly, not minding the wetness of his uniform.

Suddenly, there was a particularly vivid flash of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the building. Selina gave a hoarse laugh. "'It was a dark and stormy night...'" she quoted. "How appropriate. You're the Dark Knight, and I've occasionally been known to be rather stormy."

He silenced her with a kiss.

When she woke up the next morning she was alone, of course. But she smiled to herself as she caressed his pillow. He would be back.

Later that morning, she received two dozen red roses. The card, sealed with a gold, "W" embossed sticker, read simply:

__

"Good morning, Stormy.

I love you.

The Dark Knight" 


	6. 23-27

23-27

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

DECEMBER

Christmas Eve was looking promising, thought Bruce. So far, the Joker remained in Arkham Asylum instead of attempting his annual holiday escape. And, as Robin had been known to say, "Even scum spend Christmas with their families", leaving Batman free for once to spend the evening with his girlfriend.

"You look wonderful," he told Selina when she opened the door. She smiled, eyes sparkling, but said nothing.

Bruce seated himself on the couch, and Selina curled up next to him. Wordlessly, she handed him a silver-wrapped package.

He looked at her curiously. "I thought we were going to wait until tomorrow to exchange gifts."

"This is something else," she smiled. "Go on, open it."

Shrugging, he tore off the paper. From the box he removed a small, sterling silver cup, and an even smaller spoon. "I don't get it," he said, with a puzzled look.

Selina grinned. "Merry Christmas, Bruce. I'm pregnant!" she announced smugly.

Bruce gaped at her open-mouthed. "How did that happen?" he asked stupidly.

"Some detective," she teased.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he told her with a slight frown of annoyance. "I mean, we've always been so careful. Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes. I very discreetly went to Leslie for confirmation. And I think she's going to have a few words to say to you on the subject, incidentally. And as for the other, do I have to remind you about a certain night on a certain rooftop a few weeks ago?"

He smiled, remembering. A balmy night, particularly mild for November. The two of them wrapped in his cape for warmth. It was the only time in his long career he'd ever done anything like that — although he'd had very tempting offers from more than one villainess.

"I don't know what to say...."

Selina held his hands in her lap, smiling at him. "How about 'Selina, darling — this is wonderful news. I'm so happy!'" she suggested.

He blinked. "Well, uh, okay," he agreed. "Don't misunderstand, I'm just...stunned. I didn't exactly see this coming."

"Actually, neither did I. But now that I've had a little time to get used to the idea, it rather appeals to me. Besides, my _cats_ think I'm a good mother," she joked.

"I'm not sure what sort of father I'll make, though," said Bruce slowly.

She smiled reassuringly. "Your first 'son' seems to have turned out pretty well, so obviously you did something right."

Bruce suddenly thought of something else. He grabbed her arms and looked at her intently. "I think there's something else we need to discuss, Selina. You've been telling me no for months, but this changes things. Now will you marry me?"

She pursed her lips, considering. "Well...I always said I wouldn't marry you for your money. And I certainly have no intention of marrying you just because I'm pregnant, either."

Bruce looked stricken, but Selina cut short his strangled protests. Reaching up to caress his cheek tenderly, she went on with a smile, "Luckily for you, I decided a few weeks ago that the next time you asked, I was ready to say yes. Besides, I think if I don't marry you pretty soon, Leslie will shoot both of us!"

*****

He was still stunned when he got home later that night. The thought kept echoing through his head: _Me? A husband and father? _Sleep was out of the question, and he couldn't concentrate on work, so he just wandered through the mansion for a while. Eventually, he spotted a light in the kitchen, so he headed in there, hoping Alfred was up for a little counseling session.

But it wasn't Alfred. Instead, he found Dick seated at the table, enjoying an enormous mug of hot chocolate and the inevitable marshmallows. He smiled when he saw his guardian. "Yo, Bruce. I didn't expect to see you again tonight. How 'bout joining me for a midnight snack? I know you don't like marshmallows, but we can break into Alfred's fudge a little early."

Bruce just shook his head. "No. No thanks, I'm not hungry."

Dick looked at him in concern. "Hey, you don't look too good. Everything okay?"

"I'm getting married," Bruce announced, sounding as if he didn't quite believe it himself, yet.

Dick managed to actually swallow the mouthful of cocoa without spitting it out, but it was a struggle. "_Married?_ Whoa! Hey, that's _great!_ Congratulations."

"You don't mind? I mean, a lot of things are going to change around here. A lot of things."

"Mind? I think it's terrific. You and Selina make a great couple. It's about time you got a break. Besides," he added with a wicked grin, "I'm just relieved you're not gonna marry Veronica! Or little miss whatsername from Nepal. Talk about in-law problems!"

"Yeah," answered Bruce distractedly. "Look, Dick, there's more to it than that. Selina is...well, we're going to have a baby."

Dick stared at him for a moment. "Wow. That's quite a bombshell."

Bruce showed him a weak grin. "That's what I thought, too. This wasn't exactly planned. I mean, I wanted to get married, but we never even talked about kids. Selina's very enthusiastic about the whole thing, but I'm not so sure. It's not really bad news, but I can't help thinking what sort of life is this for a child to grow up in? Having parents who put on masks every night and go out to fight criminals. Most people wouldn't exactly call that a stable family environment."

The younger man shrugged. "So what? Speaking as something of an expert, I can't think of a better way to grow up. Besides, think what a terrific older brother the kid will have," he grinned.

"That's very true." He hesitated, then reached over and laid a hand on Dick's arm. "I want you to know something, Dick," he said with some difficulty. "No matter what happens, you'll always be my firstborn." Then he turned away in embarrassment.

Dick flushed. He wanted to tell him lightly, "Hey, I know that," but he choked on the words and couldn't get them out. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

JANUARY, 1996

They were married at Wayne Manor on New Year's Day, with Dick as best man and Maven as matron of honour. Instead of a bouquet of flowers, the bride carried an armful of cat. Wanting to avoid the inevitable media circus, Bruce asked his old friend Judge Maria Vargas to perform the ceremony without telling anyone. As a result, the only guests at the wedding were Alfred, Leslie Thompkins, and Barbara Gordon, who mysteriously told her father and step-mother she was going to "a little New Year's reception, very small, given by some friends."

Later that night, after the judge had left, and Maven had gone home to placate her husband about her "working late", the group sat in the den enjoying the last of Alfred's splendid wedding feast.

As Leslie congratulated Bruce yet again, telling him how proud she was of him, how proud his parents would have been, and what a wonderful girl he'd married, Barbara took Selina aside for a moment.

"So, what do you plan to do now?" she asked. "Go out and fight crime together, or stay home and raise little Batcats?"

Selina laughed. "Well, I'll never be qualified to be a stay-at-home mom, so probably both. Starting with the latter first — in about seven months or so, actually."

"Oh, that's great!" exclaimed Barbara. "I'm so glad everything finally seems to be working out for you two."

Before Selina could reply, she felt Leslie touch her lightly on the shoulder. Barbara excused herself so the two could talk.

"I don't think I've had a chance to tell you how happy I am about all of this," the old doctor smiled. "You know, Bruce is like a son to me. All I've ever wanted was to see him happy. And you seem to make him happier than I've seen him at any time in the last thirty years, almost."

Selina studied the lined face, speculating about the bond between the two of them. She knew that Leslie had been Thomas Wayne's colleague and closest friend since before med. school, and that she had been named Bruce's guardian after the murder of his parents, although Alfred had actually raised him.

But she wondered if that was all there was to it. Leslie Thompkins had never married, ostensibly too wrapped up in her career, and Selina wondered if maybe she saw Bruce not only as the son she never had, but as the son she might have had, under different circumstances. She couldn't help theorizing that, just possibly, Leslie might have been in love with Thomas at one time, quietly standing to the side when he fell for Martha. She frequently talked about her old friend, about how much he had meant to her and how much his son meant to her, but she seldom mentioned Bruce's mother, although by all accounts they had gotten along very well.

"God knows, Bruce is not the easiest man in the world to love," Leslie was saying, and Selina dragged herself back to the present. "And I don't suppose you're exactly easy to live with, yourself. But I really believe the two of you can make this marriage work. You're exactly right for each other, even down to your obsessive personalities. I've never met any woman he's ever dated that I could say the same about."

"Did you ever meet _her_?"

Leslie nodded. "Once or twice, years ago. She was a nice, sweet, sassy little girl. The kind who would make a good wife for a wealthy businessman, and give some of these silly debutantes no end of grief. But you and I both know Bruce is not your average businessman, and the last thing in the world he ever needs is some little girl who clings to him and has to be taken care of. He needs a grown woman who's capable of standing on her own two feet and telling him he's full of it when he gives you any of his nonsense."

Selina laughed. "I think I can handle that."

"I think you can, too," Leslie smiled, patting her hand. "By the way, I know Catwoman is officially on maternity leave, but I don't suppose there's any chance Batman is planning to retire now that he's married?"

Selina shook her head. "No. He did offer. But there's no way I would let him give that up even if I wanted him to. She made him feel like he had to choose, but I know it's too much a part of who he is. If I forced him to make that choice, it would destroy him. Not to mention us."

"Hey, what are you two looking so serious about? This is a wedding!" Bruce interrupted cheerfully, coming over and slipping his arm around Selina's waist. "And Leslie, will you quit monopolizing my wife? I have a feeling I'm being raked over the coals here."

Leslie gently smacked him on the hand with one of her gloves and told him with mock severity, "Well, you're not far wrong. I was just telling Selina that if you won't give up your double life now that you have a family to take care of, I hope you're at least planning to take the night off!"

Bruce grinned. "I think this one time I can manage to follow doctor's orders."

Surprised when his old friend failed to make her usual sarcastic reply, he followed her gaze to the open window. The yellow and black Bat signal lit up the night sky.

"Oh, dear," said Alfred.

Leslie raised her eyebrows. "Well, Bruce? This is the acid test."

For a moment, the company exchanged nervous glances, no one saying anything. Then Dick nudged Barbara. "Come on. _We're_ on call tonight."

"Thanks," Bruce told him.

Dick shrugged. "No problem. We'll just tell 'em you're depressed because Catwoman got married."

Compulsive as always, Bruce said, "If it's anything too major, call us."

"We won't!" Barbara assured him cheerfully, and followed Dick through the room's secret entrance to the Batcave.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"_HA-A-A-R-R-L-E-E-Y!_ Where's my breakfast!?"

The shout echoed through the empty halls of an old abandoned comedy club in south Gotham. This place had served as the primary hideout for the Joker and his gang during his many escapes, and so far neither the police nor any of the city's masked vigilantes had discovered the location.

In spite of the fact it was only 7 a.m., the Clown Prince of Crime was already in full makeup. In fact, most of the time he made a point of sleeping in his clown white. He was wearing an old undershirt and green boxer shorts decorated with "NO BATS" symbols — the bat emblem encircled with a red slash mark.

The Joker stormed into the kitchen, still loudly demanding his breakfast. His girlfriend reluctantly pulled her attention away from the morning paper and set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him.

"Here ya go, Puddin'!" she announced in a high-pitched voice that would have been intensely annoying if it hadn't been so cute.

Harleen Quinzel, more commonly known as Harley Quinn, was a former psychiatrist in her late twenties. But right now, not having had time yet to put on her clown face and her trademark red and black harlequin costume, she looked more like a 16-year-old street kid. She wore nothing but a t-shirt that had seen better days, her feet were bare, and her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

She picked up the January 2nd edition of the Gotham Gazette. "Here's somethin' in the paper that should cheer you up, Mr. J.," she told the Joker. He ignored her and continued to shovel eggs into his mouth.

"Yep," Harley continued, "I'll bet Batman is sure down in the dumps today."

The Joker looked up. "Batman?" he mumbled through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"Yeah, poor Batsy," sighed Harley. "His girlfriend dumped him and married the rich guy. See?"

She showed him the paper. The headline read:

****

THE CAT AND THE BRAT:

MILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY BRUCE WAYNE

MARRIES CATWOMAN SELINA KYLE

"Gimme that!" growled the Joker.

As he read the article, his wild laugh echoed through the darkened halls of the old club. Harley sat in his lap and put her arm around his shoulders, reaching up to caress his cheek lovingly.

"Does that give you any _ideas_, Puddin'?" she asked hopefully, thoughts of wedding bells swimming through her head.

He grinned suddenly, showing all of his enormous yellow teeth. "Yes...it certainly does!"

Harley gave a little squeal of pleasure that turned into an oof! as he stood up and dumped her on the floor.

"Harley girl, what's say we help the Waynes start their marriage off with a bang?" Bruce Wayne had once cheated him at blackjack, and the Joker had never forgiven him. And as for his new bride, he had had enough run-ins with the Cat to know she didn't improve on acquaintance.

Harley clapped her hands gleefully, only slightly disappointed he didn't mean to propose to her. "Oh, goody! We get to blow up Miss Kitty!" She made a sour face. "I'm glad. She sent me a stuffed _fish_ for Christmas!" Harley hated fish. 

Another thought struck her. "Say, boss, why d'you suppose she married this guy when she always seemed so crazy about Batman? Y'don't suppose he could be Batsy himself, do ya?"

He shoved her roughly against the counter as he passed by to refill his coffee cup. Turning to give her a withering glance, he growled, "That idea was funny the first time I heard it, Harley. But it's old, and the punchline has lost its punch. Besides," he added, "I've seen 'em together." 

"But, Mr. J.," Harley insisted, "you know how good Batman is with disguises. Maybe he had somebody else — "

She broke off abruptly as the Joker lifted her up by her shirt collar, glaring at her.

"Okay, okay. It was a stupid idea."

"And don't you forget it," he snarled, dropping her on her butt on the floor.

Nobody ever said theirs was one of the healthiest relationships in town.

When the news of Bruce Wayne's sudden marriage hit the international papers, most of his business associates and jet-set acquaintances were taken by surprise.

In a sidewalk café in Paris, an attractive 30-ish woman with red-brown hair and large, pale blue eyes was sipping a glass of red wine as she read the paper.

On page three she found the news. The expression on her face never changed as she read the account of the surprise wedding, but the tiny crystal glass she held shattered in her hand. The woman read on, oblivious to the pain and the blood slowly dripping onto the table, mingling with the spilled wine.

*****

Two days after their wedding, Bruce and Selina were taking a walk on the rocks below the house, holding hands, enjoying the nip in the air and the surf pounding inches away from their feet.

Earlier that afternoon they had given a press conference, deeming it necessary to curb some of the speculation.

"You know, darling, it was nice of you to say publicly that you don't mind having a wife who goes out crime fighting with Batman," joked Selina.

Bruce grinned back at her. "Well, you did say you were just friends, after all. I also liked that part when you announced Catwoman was taking a year or so off because we're anxious to start a family right away."

She laughed. "I was rather pleased with that, myself. Not that it'll fool any of these tabloid-fed busybodies, but who cares? I'm not terribly concerned with my reputation at this point."

Alfred carefully picked his way down to them, carrying a parcel on a silver tray.

"This just arrived by special messenger, Master Bruce," he announced. "Addressed to both of you."

Bruce undid the outer wrappings and regarded the gaily wrapped package curiously. He read the enclosed card with eyebrows raised. "'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, Best of luck on your marriage. Hope your life together is a real blast! Love, J. and H.'" With a shrug, he handed it to Selina and started to open the package.

Without warning, she grabbed the box out of his hands and hurled it into the bay. Before Bruce could even express his surprise, there was a muffled explosion. A fountain of water spewed upward.

"My word!" gasped Alfred.

Selina waved the note at them. "Bruce! Don't you see? 'J. and H.' — the _Joker_ and _Harley_! I recognised her handwriting."

Bruce looked at his wife with respect. "I guess this ongoing feud of yours does have a few advantages," he told her, shaking his head to clear it.

"Mmm. We kind of enjoy tormenting each other," Selina admitted. "I would never defend the woman, but I'll guarantee, this was not Harley's idea."

"No. That bomb was a Joker Special."

"I assume then, sir, you'll be spending the evening pursuing everyone's favourite fun-loving couple?" inquired Alfred. "Shall I alert Master Dick?"

Bruce nodded. "Good idea, Alfred. And as for you," he told Selina sternly, "you are going to stay home like a good little girl."

She stared at him, annoyed. She knew he was only trying to protect her and the baby, but she had always been accustomed to being treated as an equal, and she certainly did not intend to change now.

"I told you on our second date that I'd never been able to play the damsel in distress, and I don't need to be taken care of," she informed him coldly. "And surely you've noticed by now that I don't take orders very well."

He realised he'd committed a serious tactical error. She was the one person he seldom tried to boss around, and with good reason. "Sorry," he told her. "I don't mean to give you orders. I just want you to take care of yourself, that's all. I'm new at this husband business, you know."

"Mm hmmm," she said skeptically. But she smiled. "I'll stay home because I have to for the time being. But you might as well accept that you're never going to make a good girl out of me. You'll probably regret marrying me every day of your life."

Bruce shook his head. "I doubt it," he said, kissing her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

AUGUST

Batman crawled wearily into the Batmobile. It had been a tough night, and there were still a few things he needed to take care of. Sighing, he pressed a button on the dashboard com panel to call home.

When Alfred answered, he told him, "Well, I've got Two-Face back where he belongs — in a double-locked cell. Now I just have to — "

The butler interrupted him sternly. "Master Bruce, it's time to call it a night. Miss Selina needs you."

"I'll be right there," growled Batman, and the sleek, blue-black car raced off into the night.

A short time later, having broken his own speed records, the Batmobile screeched to a halt in the cave. Batman jumped out, ripping off his mask as he did so.

"Alfred! How is she?" he demanded.

His old friend answered with a smile, "Tired, but otherwise quite well."

Bruce started for the stairs at a gallop, but Alfred stopped him in his tracks with his next announcement.

"As are _both_ your sons, sir. Your family awaits upstairs, Master Bruce," he added, when Bruce just stood there gaping at him.

He streaked through the house and into his bedroom, eyes wide, not even thinking about the fact he was still clothed in Batman's uniform. He found Selina sitting up in bed, holding a tiny baby. Leslie Thompkins stood across the room holding the other.

Selina gave her husband a tired grin. "Once again, Batman shows up in the nick of time," she joked.

"Well _past_ the nick of time, if you ask me," corrected Leslie, with a disapproving shake of her head. "Sit down, Bruce, and meet your son."

Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the bed next to Selina. Leslie gently placed the baby in his arms. He looked from one twin to the other, noticing they would definitely not be identical. The one Bruce held had his father's black hair, while his brother was blond like their mother.

Selina nodded toward the one she held. "This one's mine," she announced. "I'm going to name him Kyle. That one's yours — you get to name him."

Bruce responded slowly, "If you don't mind, I'd like...to name him _Thomas_...after my father."

Selina touched his hand, then looked up and winked at Leslie. "I knew he'd say that."

The old woman softened a little. "I hoped he'd say that." Then she got gruff again and told him, "I'll leave you to get acquainted with your new family, Bruce. But I'll have a few words to say to you later."

She left Bruce and Selina alone with their children, smiling at the picture the four of them made.

"Honestly, Bruce, I don't know how Selina puts up with you. I can't believe you stayed out of touch all night long, knowing your wife was past her due date and could give birth any second."

Bruce nodded understandingly. "I know, Les. I hated being out of touch, but this case — "

Leslie sighed in exasperation. "It's always 'this case' with you. If it's not Two-Face, it's the Joker or the Penguin or Poison Ivy or Ra's al Ghul, etc., etc. For years I've watched you jeopardize your health and your life on one case after another, and each one is always more urgent than the last."

"And you scold me every time."

"Because you never listen to me," she shot back. "You go right ahead and do exactly what you want. But I want you to listen to what I'm saying this time. It's not just you anymore, Bruce. You have a wife and two children who depend on you, so don't let them down."

He regarded her solemnly. "Like I did tonight, you mean."

She gave him a tender smile, seeing that she'd at least partially succeeded in getting through to him. "Well, I will admit it was a record-breaking fast labor, especially for twins. There wasn't even time to call an ambulance. But you'd been _told_ there was a family history of short labors and overdue babies, and you should have been home."

"I know," he sighed. "I meant to be here, but I had no idea it would be tonight."

Leslie snorted. He was hopeless. "You _meant_ to be here," she repeated. "I've heard that before, you know. You always meant to be here for Dick when he was growing up, too, but he still ended up spending an awful lot of time alone. If he hadn't become Robin, he'd never have seen you. Even now I don't think the boy has any idea how much you really love him. But I'm telling you now, if you don't do better by the twins than you did with Dick, you'll have to answer to me!"

Bruce laughed and hugged her. "You're right, Leslie. As usual. What would I do without you chewing me out on a regular basis?"

"I shudder to think," she said lightly, shaking her head. Then she added solemnly, "I know it was losing your parents like you did that drives you to this obsession. You don't want any other child to ever got through what you did. So remember that with your own children, Bruce. Don't deprive them of their father while you're out saving the world. That would make a mockery of your parents' death."

With that, she strode out of the library, not giving him a chance to respond. She had played her trump card, and he would either take her words to heart, or carry around a tremendous load of guilt. But he would remember.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

DECEMBER, 1998

In the intervening two years, the twins grew happy and healthy, Kyle bigger and more robust than the quiet Thomas. Allison Kincaid, Maven's sister, was their nanny, and so far she hadn't started asking any uncomfortable questions about the strange goings on in the Wayne household.

Maven herself was still as indispensable as always. Her marriage, which as Selina had predicted was never terribly solid in the first place, had finally blown up. Tim Burke wasn't the type to object to his wife working, but he had always strongly objected to the hours her job necessitated, as well as to her boss. As things went downhill, Maven reacted by spending more and more time at the Manor, which naturally helped contribute to their divorce.

Other relationships were faring better. Dick and Barbara had started dating soon after discovering the truth about each other. They seemed to feel that their long friendship, combined with the strong attraction they had felt as soon as Robin and Batgirl crossed paths, made them an ideal couple. It had taken a little while to get used to thinking of themselves as something other than best friends, but once that barrier was crossed, the relationship had grown steadily more serious and they had recently started making wedding plans.

After college, Dick had gone to work for Wayne Enterprises, though not without a few misgivings, and with the understanding that if he ever decided he simply wasn't cut out to be a businessman, Bruce would let him go with no objections.

Barbara, on the other hand, had figured out exactly what she wanted to do, and continued on to law school. After the initial shock of learning exactly how many laws she and her partners were breaking on a regular basis, she had adjusted and was doing well, looking forward to the day when she could catch the bad guys and prosecute them. She also moved into her own place, tired of living with her parents. Ironically, the apartment she found was on the top floor of the building where she had first encountered Catwoman.

Selina herself was doing extremely well. The five-year probationary period had finally expired, and it was a relief not having that hanging over her head. Her work for the animal rights causes was going better than she had dreamed, though not for the reasons she hoped. It was frustrating to keep coming across people who supported her cause merely because it was the popular thing to do, and not because they shared her heartfelt love of animals. She had also discovered, much to her disgust, that her married name was responsible for more of her success than her own reputation. Selina Wayne was a much hotter property than Selina Kyle had ever been.

She was also pregnant with her third child, although she hadn't told Bruce about that yet. Selina had a strong feeling that this baby would be a girl, and she planned to name her Helena.

Leslie Thompkins had suffered a mild heart attack and moved into Wayne Manor temporarily to recuperate. As soon as she felt stronger, she wasted no time in proving the old adage that doctors make the worst patients.

One night, a few nights before Christmas, Bruce sat in his den, feeling disinclined to tackle the paperwork spread over the desk. He was waving a pencil for Isis to bat with her paw. Osiris, who had decided that Bruce and everything in this particular room was his, sat regarding the little female with proprietary disapproval. The orange cat, Sethos, was busy grooming himself on the other side of the desk.

The phone rang. Bruce answered, and what he heard drained all the colour from his face.

"I'll be there," he said quietly.

Selina came in, carrying Kyle, in time to hear her husband's words. "What's up?" she asked mildly, expecting it to be some business emergency with Lucius.

Without stopping, Bruce told her, "I have to leave."

Blinking with surprise, she followed him to the Batcave. There she found Alfred staring after the retreating Batmobile.

"Miss Selina, have you any idea what's going on?" he asked.

"Not yet, I don't," she answered, handing him the baby. She disappeared behind a screen, emerging momentarily as Catwoman.

Engaging the tracking device in her car, she took off after the Batmobile.

Alfred watched her leave, then turned to the little boy in his arms. "There are times, young Master Kyle," he told him, "when you and your brother have my deepest sympathy." Kyle's only reaction was to grab at Alfred's moustache. 

Catwoman found Batman, unmasked, on a high rooftop, talking to a red-haired woman dressed all in black. The building was the one where Carl Beaumont had had his offices years ago, although Selina had no way of knowing that.

"Do you know what day this is, Bruce?" the woman was saying. He inclined his head to show he did. "Five years ago today everything went to hell, just when I thought we might have a chance together at long last. And I've been in hell ever since."

"Andrea," he pleaded, voice strained with emotion.

Unable to stay hidden any longer, Catwoman stepped out of the shadows behind Bruce. Andrea saw her and laughed. "Well, what an honour: to meet the famous Catwoman! Jewel thief turned society matron." When Selina didn't say anything, Andrea teased, "What's the matter, _Mrs. Wayne_? Cat got your tongue?"

This was too much. "No," answered Selina, starting toward her threateningly, "but keep it up and she'll have yours."

Bruce grabbed her arm before she could get very close to Andrea, though it wasn't clear which one he was trying to protect.

"Why, Bruce, I had no idea how charming your wife was," continued the woman in black sweetly. "I hope she's housebroken."

Catwoman hissed.

"Or maybe not," shrugged Andrea.

When the claws came out, Batman decided it was time to intervene. Taking his wife to one side, he asked her to wait for him at home, saying he had to deal with this by himself. She started to refuse, but he gently took hold of her shoulders. "Please," he said quietly, gazing into her eyes. The expression on his face did more to convince her than anything he could have said.

But she couldn't resist one little word with her rival. Stepping close to the woman and removing the cat mask so she could see her face, she told her, "Play your little games, An-_dray_-uh," exaggerating the pronunciation to show what she thought of it.

"You're no threat to me," she continued. "Bruce is mine. He chose the reality of me over the memory of you, and there's no going back. I'm his wife and the mother of his children. You are nothing but a distant voice from the past. Remember that." She sounded totally confident, knowing she was absolutely right. She only hoped Bruce had sense enough to know it, too.

Selina was aching to rake her claws across the woman's face, but it wouldn't win her any points with her husband, and more importantly, she knew she couldn't risk a fight because she had to protect her baby. So she contented herself with one tiny scratch on the jaw. She retreated, stopping for a moment to take Bruce's hand and feel his reassuring squeeze in return. Then she left them alone.

Andrea snorted. "Your wife is certainly the jealous type, isn't she?"

"Cats are very...territorial," he told her.

She looked at him unbelievingly. With one bitter, crazy-sounding laugh, she answered, "_She's_ territorial? She's the one who's intruding on _my_ territory."

Batman shook his head slowly. He was afraid to say much, concerned that he might send her completely over the edge.

She muttered something he didn't catch. Then, "Do you love her, Bruce?"

"Yes," he answered, without hesitation.

"As much as me?"

This time he hesitated for a split second before answering "yes" again. But it was clear that the hesitation was more out of consideration for her feelings than any uncertainty on his part.

She stared at him, a wild look in her eyes. "More?" she demanded.

He tried to think how to spare her, but honesty compelled him to admit, "In some ways. We've been married almost three years. We have two sons. Living with someone like that...there's a bond. I can't explain it."

The look on her face cut through him like a knife. She shut her eyes tightly, trying not to cry. In spite of her efforts, a few tears slid down her cheeks.

"That's what hurts the most," she told him in a cracked voice. "The children. _Your_ children. Yours and hers. Remember how we wanted kids of our own, Bruce?" 

He nodded. "That was a long time ago, when we had that conversation," he reminded her.

"Mm hmmm. But I never stopped thinking about it. Five years ago, I hoped against hope that it could still happen, that I could at least have some part of you to hang onto. But that one night just wasn't enough, I'm afraid. Don't you ever wonder what a child of ours would have been like?"

"No. Andi, this isn't getting us anywhere. Please — stop torturing yourself."

Right, he thought. Like he hadn't done the same thing.

"Like you did?" she asked accusingly. "You certainly got on with your life, didn't you? Hardly wasted any time at all before you found someone else."

He shook his head no. "It wasn't like that. Not at first. And Selina and I had a certain...history...before you ever came back."

Andrea's tenuous control finally snapped. _"History!?"_ she exploded. "History! I've loved you for fifteen years, Bruce. _That's_ history! Not flirting with some tramp in a cat suit. My God, I should have finished that woman off years ago when I had the chance."

Bruce couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What are you saying?" he asked gently. He had a sinking feeling he knew, but the idea was too horrible to believe.

She looked at him as if he was the one who was insane. "The last time I was in town," she explained. "The gossip columnists were full of speculation about the friendship between the business tycoon and the cat burglar. I had to find out what it was all about and stop it. Don't worry; I wasn't intending to kill her. I just wanted her away from you, that's all. That idiot terrorist was the one who wanted her dead, but of course she messed it up."

Batman was stunned. "So you were the CopyCat," he said unbelievingly. "You wanted Selina out of my life, so you dressed up in a copy of her costume and tried to frame her."

He had wondered for a long time about the identity of Red Claw's accomplice, but never had it occurred to him that it might have been his onetime love. The information was definitely not something he ever wanted his wife to know about. And he certainly couldn't tell Andrea that her scheme had had the ironic result of forcing him to face his true feelings for Selina.

She made a face. "Would have worked, too, if I hadn't been so stupid about guessing which piece of jewelry you hid the tracking bug in. There I was planning to lead you on a merry chase — and wouldn't it have been fun if I'd let you catch me, hmmm? — and instead led you right to her. You wouldn't believe how hard I kicked myself over that one."

"Yes, I would." What he couldn't believe was how often he found himself facing some villain who found it necessary to explain not only how the crime was committed, and exactly why it had gone wrong, but also use every rationalization in the world to justify it.

"You know, it's kind of fun being a burglar," she admitted. Then she shuddered. "The only bad thing was having to carry around that horrible cat. I've always hated cats. I hope somebody killed the thing."

"Osiris? No, he lives with us," Bruce told her absently. His mind was still struggling to come to grips with all of this.

Andi looked at him, horrified. "Oh, Bruce, what has that woman done to you?"

She sagged against him suddenly. "What has the _world_ done to us, my love?" she asked, looking into his face wearily.

He said nothing, just held her, wondering how that sweet girl he had known all those years ago could have come to this.

The Batmobile drove slowly up the ramp to its special platform. Batman climbed out and stood leaning against the car, lacking the energy to stand up straight.

A small grey form slipped out of the shadows and touched his shoulder with a gloved hand. 

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head, indicating defeat. "I tried to convince her to get help, but.... It was just like last time. She didn't want to be saved. She'd rather just live in the past and sink further into the abyss every year. And she refuses to grab the line I throw her."

Selina tightened her mouth angrily. _Fine_, she thought. _If she wants to spend her life playing out the banquet scene from Great Expectations, let her. But she's not taking my husband with her._

But she didn't say it, unwilling to add to his pain.

Without intending to, she found herself asking, "Do you still love her?"

He hesitated. "I don't know," he answered slowly. "Maybe. Maybe there's some part of me that always will. Or...maybe not. I just don't know, Selina. She's not the same person she was. And I _know_ I'm not. That has to make a difference." Suddenly he remembered Andrea asking him the same question about Selina. How he'd answered without hesitation. It told him something.

"Maybe it doesn't really matter," he said, half to himself.

She looked at him in surprise. "I've never heard you say anything like that before."

He placed his hands on her slender waist, and stood looking at her for a long moment before he answered. "What I meant is my feelings for Andrea shouldn't be important now. I know I've always been driven by things that happened in the past, and that probably won't ever change, but...maybe I've finally learned you can't ignore the future, either." That's what Leslie had been trying to tell him, the night the twins were born. "I know how I feel about you, and that's the only thing that really matters, Selina. I belong with you."

"Did you convince her of that?"

Bruce sighed. "I doubt it. But I promised her if she ever comes back to town, or bothers you or anyone else I care about, I'll bring her down without a second thought. I think I managed to convince her of that, anyway."

I hope, he thought.

Selina was far from convinced, but she chose not to make an issue of it tonight. It wouldn't accomplish anything.

Once again, wounds from the past had been reopened, and she knew he would have to heal them in his own way. All she could do was be there for him, and try to keep him from falling into the shadows of the past.

Gently, she took his hand and led him upstairs.

c. May, 1994 by Lydia Hunter


End file.
